


How to Conjure a Family

by littlesparkleshark



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Baby Henry Mills (Once Upon a Time), Dealing With Trauma, F/F, Getting to Know Each Other, Magical quest, Mutual Pining, Sharing a Bed, but not in a bad way, lesser known fairytales, magic couples therapy, tropes galore, trust building
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:27:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 30,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26140375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlesparkleshark/pseuds/littlesparkleshark
Summary: "Regina, I think we have a problem."There was a pause, and Emma could tell the other woman was trying not to overreact to Emma's statement. "And I want you to know it wasn't my fault," the sheriff added quickly."What kind of problem? Is Henry okay?""He's fine," Emma replied automatically. "I mean, he's not fine. I think he's a baby, but he looks happy."At that exact moment, the baby who was probably Henry started to wail, and Emma felt a wash of panic run over her as she abandoned the shambles of her pride."Regina, can you just come over here please?"Takes place just after season one/ a few months after the curse breaks.
Relationships: Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Emma Swan
Comments: 35
Kudos: 268
Collections: Swan Queen Supernova V: Forever Starstruck





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KennedyMorgan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KennedyMorgan/gifts).
  * Inspired by [[Art] The Evil Queen, an Ancient Witch, and Emma Swan](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26219803) by [KennedyMorgan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KennedyMorgan/pseuds/KennedyMorgan). 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Regina, I think we have a problem."
> 
> There was a pause, and Emma could tell the other woman was trying not to overreact to Emma's statement. "And I want you to know it wasn't my fault," the sheriff added quickly.
> 
> "What kind of problem? Is Henry okay?"
> 
> "He's fine," Emma replied automatically. "I mean, he's not fine. I think he's a baby, but he looks happy."
> 
> At that exact moment, the baby who was probably Henry started to wail, and Emma felt a wash of panic run over her as she abandoned the shambles of her pride.
> 
> "Regina, can you just come over here please?"

It was a beautiful summer day in Storybrooke. The clouds that almost constantly shrouded the town in grey dissipated into nothing at long last, leaving the sky blue and cloudless for the first time in weeks. Many of the town's residents had taken this opportunity to spend some time outside.

Several picnic blankets dotted the parks and quite a few families and couples had taken over the beach on the Northside, far away from the stench of the cannery and crowded boat docks to the east.

Meanwhile, Henry and Emma had taken up residence in Mary Margret's loft. The two of them prepared to spend their entire weekend on the sofa playing Zelda: Breath of the Wild to its completion. Mary Margret had given them a disapproving look before leaving with David for the weekend on an impromptu second honeymoon. However, Snow's idea of disapproving was nothing in comparison to the look on Regina's face when she'd dropped Henry off last night.

"You're his mother, Miss Swan, not his playmate." Regina had told her, voice dripping with disdain as she sifted through the stack of games Emma kept next to her gaming consoles.

The sheriff couldn't be certain, but she was willing to bet it was Regina who was responsible for her copy of GTA5 going missing minutes after Henry had been dropped off for the week.

Emma placed her lime green controller on the coffee table and headed into the kitchen, taking time along the way to stretch out her body and crack various joints.

As far as summer plans went Emma was pretty pleased with her and the kid's idea of a good time. Last night they had built a pretty impressive pillow fort in the living room, using every soft item they had at their disposal. They had woken up early and had a balanced breakfast before settling into their living room fort still clad in pajamas to begin their epic quest.

"Kid, you want anything?"

No response.

The curse had been broken in early fall of last year, leaving the town in shambles and Archie with more patients than he knew how to handle.

The sheriff's station phone was practically ringing off the hook every single day as feuds and old grudges from the old-world resurfaced with the return of their memories. More than a few people had tried to solve these spats with old-world solutions, and the number of angry mobs with pitchforks and torches Emma had dispersed last year had seemed never-ending. Though David and Snow had offered to help her keep the peace, they hadn't been much better; particularly when it came to Regina. Even more so when the fights were between the mayor and Emma.

However, eventually, the dust settled as their returned memories intermingled with the twenty-eight years in Storybook. Shops began to re-open and pitchfork mobs became peaceful protestors now lobbying for the marrying of old-world culture into the school curriculum and holidays. A new religious group emerged, and a few people had begun to grow fresh produce in a community garden near Town Hall. Still, Emma couldn't seem to find the same internal tranquility the rest of the town had found.

When she and Regina had decided to try and peacefully co-parent, it not only seemed like the right thing for Henry but them as well. Emma had been tired, their constant fighting and grappling for the upper hand weighing heavily after a year. Regina had agreed, reluctantly, and they'd drawn up a literal contract outlining their custody agreement. Trust being a bit too much to ask of either of them at the time. Nevertheless, they had been left with no other options and the arrangement kept Henry from feeling like he had to choose between the two parents he loved. Inevitably, they had both agreed that his happiness was the most important thing and was willing to try anything to keep him happy.

Their new custody agreement was messy, and Emma could tell it still upset Regina to even have to agree to one at all. The wounds were still too fresh for the amount of civility expected in sharing a child– too many screaming matches, fistfights, and threats had happened in the previous months for their smiles to be sincere.

More than anything Emma hated the hushed tones. The two of them whispering heatedly at each other next to the fridge while Henry was sent to his room to unpack. She missed yelling, they hadn't been permitted to yell at each other in months and Emma felt as if she was a pot ready to boil over.

"Henry? You want a soda or anything?" Emma asked, rummaging around in the fridge to see if there was anything else she could offer the kid.

Silence.

"Once I sit back down, I'm not getting up till I beat this boss," Emma warned, but Henry stayed silent in the other room.

"Kid, if I walk in there and you're playing without me…"

Emma trailed off seeing that the living room had been vacated. Of course, he was gone. The kid was probably on the phone for the fourth time today. Emma didn't know who he was talking to, but over the past month, he had suddenly become very attached to his phone. His fingers danced expertly across the screen in rapid succession for at least twenty three hours of the day, and his attention was perpetually split between whatever he was doing and the other conversations he seemed to be having.

Emma sighed and rounded the couch to pick up her controller, setting her glass soda bottle on the table. Prepared to wait until Henry returned from his phone call to un-pause the game.

And that's when she noticed.

On the floor, right where Henry had been sitting, was a baby lying on its back. The baby cooed and grabbed at her with little hands. Tiny fists clutched at the air with a determined but unfocused gaze.

Emma's stomach fell into her feet, all her senses flooding with dread as she froze in place looking at the baby on her floor.

"Hen…Henry?"

Her throat closed up as she continued to stare, unsure what she should do next. On auto-pilot she picked up her phone, eyes still locked on the baby in the living room as she dialed Regina's number, the dread in the pit of her stomach growing ten-fold when the mayor picked up.

"What can I do for you, Miss Swan?" She sounded exasperated, and despite the circumstances, Emma rolled her eyes at Regina's haughty tone.

"I….." She paused glancing back at the baby on the floor. "Regina, I think we have a problem"

There was a pause, and Emma could tell the other woman was trying not to overreact to Emma's statement.

"And I want you to know it wasn't my fault," the sheriff added quickly.

"What kind of problem? Is Henry okay?"

"He's fine," Emma replied automatically. "I mean, he's not fine. I think he's a baby, but he looks happy."

At that exact moment, the baby who was probably Henry started to wail, and Emma felt a wash of panic run over her as she abandoned the shambles of her pride.

"Regina, can you just come over here please?"

No reply came and Emma swallowed around the lump of panic rising in her throat. "R-Regina?"

"I'm here" Regina responded, the purple haze of her magic dissipating into the air as she stood behind Emma. An agitated look on her face as she stared at Emma expectantly. Her charcoal grey suit pressed to perfection and her arms crossed.

Emma jolted a bit, magic still not something she expected to happen in day to day life.

"I asked you not to do that!"

Regina didn't react. "Where is my son?"

Emma opened her mouth in a feeble attempt to say something, anything at all, that might cool the fire raging in Regina's eyes. When her gaze finally landed on the baby (who might be Henry), though, her entire demeanor shifted as fury settled into apprehension. One hand landed on her stomach and she let out an almost imperceptible gasp before she moved to scoop the baby into her arms.

Emma cleared her throat and shifted a bit awkwardly on her feet. "Is it… is that Henry?"

Regina didn't respond as she rocked the baby, who was very likely Henry until his crying lulled. Emma began fidgeting a bit as she looked down at them, unsure what to do now.

"It kind of looks like him but… but I never saw him when he was born so I wasn't sure, I just–"

"What did you do?" Regina accused in a low dark tone, watching the sheriff out of the corner of her eye. Emma's fidgeting ceased as both of her hands curled into a fist at her sides, irritation quickly replacing her previous anxiety.

"Me? I'm not the one with magic voodoo powers." Emma returned weakly, a scowl on her face as she stared down at the mayor and baby.

Regina scoffed, disbelief evident. "I entrust you with my son for a single week and look what happens."

"I didn't do this," Emma replied voice lowering dangerously. "I was in the kitchen for a minute, came back, and he was a baby. I don't know how that could possibly be my fault."

"Well, it certainly wasn't mine. He's never transformed into an infant under my care."

Emma rolled her eyes offering Regina menacing scowl, already exhausted. It was always like this now. The exciting battle of wits they used to play somehow transformed into blaming each other and bickering to no end through the magic of shared custody. It made Emma miss their old fights, the ones with espionage and car chases. At least those had felt winnable. The sheriff sighed.

"Okay. Let's just agree that neither of us turned our eleven-year-old into a newborn and start looking into other options."

Regina was quiet as she schooled her features, keeping her attention focused on Henry. However, Emma was more than aware that her silence was the best form of truce the mayor would ever offer.

"Can you turn him back?" Emma inquired cautiously, taking a tentative seat on the couch near where Regina was still seated on the floor.

The Mayor sighed, "It's not that simple, I would need to know what spell was used and the intent of the caster. It could be a simple transfiguration spell, or it could something much more difficult to counteract."

Emma nodded dumbly, unwilling to admit she didn't have a clue how she would undo even the simplest transfiguration spell. Regina looked up at her, their eyes meeting with surprisingly no malice.

"Has he eaten anything?"

Emma shrugged. "Scrambled eggs, a few sodas."

"Nothing odd? Magic fruit, a pie from a stranger?"

At that suggestion, the concern on Emma's features relaxed slightly to make room for the hint of a smirk. "I dunno, did you give him any your majesty?"

Regina straightened, the openness of her body language gone. A mask of indifference quickly slid into place over her features. "Right," she replied, mostly to herself as she moved to stand, baby Henry asleep in her arms.

"Miss Swan, I believe that this little incident is cause for us to revisit our previous custody agreement."

Emma sat up ready to argue with her, but Regina continued. "As you seem wholly unfit to look after my son, I will be taking him home. After I sort out your mistake and get Henry back to normal, we can arbitrate this whole matter of shared custody. As it is now blatantly apparent you are entirely incapable of caring for an eleven-year-old boy."

With that, Regina disappeared in a plume of purple smoke. A pint-sized Henry cradled in her arms and a pointedly disdained look on her face.

* * *

The apartment went still and for a moment, free from the sound of wailing baby or bickering adults. Emma stood in the aftermath, stunned by how poorly the last half-hour had gone. And yet somehow completely unsurprised with the outcome.

Emma collapsed onto the couch with a flurry of aggravated gestures, tossing the phone she still held into an armchair. The phone making a muffled thud as it collided with a yellow throw pillow. Sometimes she regretted her decision to co-parent with Regina. Longing instead for the days before the curse broke where they could just hit each other in the face.

Several months had passed since the curse broke and as civil as they had decided to be, Regina still found ways to get under her skin. She especially hated when Regina used magic to have the last word. It left so much tension it drove Emma crazy, it was like having someone hang up mid-argument, but worse.

Mary Margret wasn't a big help either, anytime she and Regina would fight the only support she would get from either of her parents was a shrug and a 'well, she is evil', and more than once she suggested that Emma should have just taken Henry from her when the curse broke. "It's not too late!" Mary Margret would say, even offering to back her up with crossbow and sword. Anything to finally defeat the Evil Queen. Needless to say, they had been very disapproving of her and Regina's decision to try and co-parent.

Of course, that oh-so-helpful advice didn't actually fix any of the little spats that had taken place between Regina and Emma since the curse broke. It also took Emma by surprise how much she missed her thoughtful, soft-spoken roommate. The roommate that wasn't actually her mother and didn't occasionally bring home rabbits she'd shot with a bow and arrow for dinner as if there wasn't a grocery store on the corner.

What helped even less was that every time Emma thought she knew what to expect from her arrangement with Regina, the Mayor would CC her into Henry's school emails or add her to various parent planning group chats. In all honesty, Emma was completely unsure where she stood with Regina, and as such, her methods for dealing with their fights had become practiced. Like riding a bike but with alcohol and loud music.

Emma pulled a bottle of whiskey out of its hiding place in the back of the pantry. Mary Margret also disapproved of her drinking, but Emma had learned to stop seeking her mother's approval long ago.

Since moving to this town a year ago, she'd developed a very specific coping mechanism for dealing with the all-consuming rage that Regina was so good at igniting in her. It involved a bottle of whiskey, loud music, usually the breaking of a few items, followed by a shower – with the whiskey. It had become so second nature that she now had a playlist on her phone that was just called 'Regina' and was about 20 songs long.

Like clockwork, Emma finished about half the bottle and had somehow managed to break Mary Margret's blender before she started up the shower. The now half-empty bottle of whiskey was cradled in the crook of her arm as she gracelessly shucked off her clothes and stepped into the hot stream of the shower.

Her phone was halfway through what she considered to be the crescendo of anger in her Regina playlist which would soon ebb into songs meant to cool her off. After that, she usually flopped naked into her bed and took a whiskey nap. By the time she had to wake up and deal with Regina again, all her emotions had been put back into their box and were tucked neatly away.

It wasn't the healthiest way of coping, and with the amount she and Regina argued, it was bound to give her liver damage. Still, it was the only tried and true method Emma had found for dealing with the mood Regina seemed to be an expert at putting her in.

Emma's head thudded against the wall, an irritated growl leaving her throat as her music was cut off by an incoming call.

She didn't even bother to check the caller ID as she took a swig of her shower whiskey and waited for the music to return.

The music had barely returned when another call came in.

Emma rolled her eyes as she sunk to the floor of the bathtub, letting the hot water run over her as she moved to lay on her back under the spray of the showerhead, whiskey bottle laying on its side between her breasts.

She didn't actually care who was calling at that moment, it could be her mother, Regina, or even the entire town trying to warn her about an alien invasion on Main Street. Emma didn't have plans to leave her shower till either the water went cold or she ran out of whiskey.

Three more calls interrupted her song and went to voicemail as Emma stared up at the ceiling of Mary Margret's bathroom. Her legs were now propped up and dangling over the edge of the tub as the spray from the shower hit her square in the middle of her stomach.

It was when the fourth call cut in that the Sherriff, in her drunken haze, decided to just sing the rest of her songs to herself.

She was halfway through a loud off-key rendition of Gives You Hell when the shower curtain was ripped open.

"What the hell are you doing?" An incredulous and angry Madam Mayor asked as she stared down at Emma's naked form prone on the shower floor.

Emma shrieked, scrambling clumsily off her back and pulling the shower curtain from Regina's hand to cover herself. The now nearly empty whiskey bottle thudded to the tub floor as Emma hastily moved to stand, clear shower curtain wrapped around her chest tightly.

"What am I doing- what are you doing? This is my shower, in my house."

Regina sighed, eyes rolling tiredly.

If Emma had been less drunk, she would have noticed that the mayor was in her pajamas. Her powder blue silk robe hung loosely over matching shorts and a tiny spaghetti strap top. The mayor's eyes were frantic and her cheeks tear-stained as she moved to cross her arms over her chest.

"Where is Henry." It wasn't a question, Regina's voice dangerously low.

Emma blinked several times, her brain working hard to compute that before her mind made a connection, her eyes going wide as she replied dumbly,

"You lost him?"

The mayor's eyes flashed, and her hand shot out to grab at the shower curtain Emma had now wrapped around herself. Yanking the blond toward her with a fury of a thousand suns.

"Miss Swan, you are still alive because my son is fond of you- but if you do not hand him over in the next 3 seconds, I will end you right here in this bathtub."

Emma scoffed, "What- you think I stole my son?"

Regina tightened her grip on Snow's stupid clear bird covered show curtain until her knuckles turned white.

"He is not your son." Regina snarled, feeling the plastic of the shower curtain tear in her tight grip.

"You are the only other person who knew Henry's schedule, you are the only person that would know where he was and how to get him. I don't know how you knew when exactly I fell asleep, or if you just got lucky but–"

Emma's brow furrowed as she began to sober up. Regina was angry, but more than that Emma could see the desperation there and her heart ached. The mayor was a lot of things, but she loved Henry with everything in her.

"Regina," Emma replied softly, cutting off the other woman's rant. "I didn't take him. I don't have him."

The mayor's grip loosened slightly, and her eyes glazed over in what Emma recognized immediately as tears. She'd only seen Regina get emotional one other time: when Henry had been stuck in the mine.

"No." Regina spat out, in a low tone. "No–you have to have him, because if you don't, then I¬¬¬¬¬¬¬–" The former queen's voice wavered and she immediately clamped her mouth shut, shifting on her feet as her arms wrapped around herself. Water shimmered in her dark down casted eyes as she shrunk into herself.

All of the anger Emma felt toward Regina dissipated in a single second and her heart ached. Hours of frustration vanished before a single tear could even fall from the former queen's eyes. Every ounce of Emma screamed to comfort the other woman, despite having wanted to fistfight her seconds earlier.

"Regina, hey." Emma soothed comfortingly, a wet hand reaching out from her shower to try and give some form of comforting touch.

Regina took in a sharp breath, visibly shaken out of her apparent vulnerability as the mayoral mask slid back into place.

Emma's hand halted, a mere inch from contact with the sleeve of the queen's silk robe. The words 'we'll find him' getting caught in her throat as she hesitated awkwardly in her still running shower, plastic bird curtain held tightly to her chest.

"Get dressed." The mayor ordered sharply before turning to leave the bathroom. Emma flinched, the hand that had been reaching toward the other woman jerked back quickly as if she'd been burned.

A moment of insecurity washed over Emma before the usual frustration returned. She welcomed it, it was the kind of emotion that she was more than comfortable with expressing and feeling toward the mayor.

"I could say the same for you." Emma shot back, although Regina was long gone from the bathroom, and the time for a snarky comeback had passed.

Newly imbued anger returning to the surface despite the hours she had spent trying to re-center herself.

The savior sighed. She usually preferred at least three to four business days between each of their fights. However, Henry's captors appeared to have other plans. With one longing glance at the mostly empty whiskey bottle laying on the floor of Mary Margret's tub, Emma moved to start getting redressed.


	2. Chapter 2

“What is it exactly you think you’ll find?” Regina’s sharp demanding voice sliced through Emma’s contemplative state like a wrecking ball.

Emma sighed, patience wearing very thin,

“I’m the sheriff, Regina, I’m looking for clues.”

The queen scoffed, “You won a rigged election and suddenly your Agent Seely Booth?”

“That’s interesting.” Emma murmured with a smirk, her back turned to Regina as she searched their son’s bedroom, hoping to find anything amiss.

“What?” Regina questioned hopefully, trying to look past where Emma was standing, “Do you know who took my son?”

“ _Our_ son” Emma corrected, “And no, what’s interesting is that you watch crime drama tv- and also that you think I’m Booth.”

Emma could see the Queen sink a bit before rolling her eyes at Emma’s childishness. If she was being honest with herself the comment was designed to make the other woman smile, even if only internally.

“And why is that interesting?” Regina question in a wearied tone that feyned uninterest.

The sheriff gave a youthful smirk and a one-sided shrug as she walked away from the bookcase on the left end of Henry’s bedroom, toward their son’s bed.

“Because I think you're Brennan.”

Another scoff, but Emma didn’t look up, her eyes zeroing in on a piece of metal in Henry’s little twin bed.

At first glance, it looked like an arrowhead, and Emma’s brow furrowed. Regina was a lot of things but above all, she was a good mother, so the presence of anything sharp in the same room with Henry set of warning bells in her mind.

“What?” Regina asked, stepping passed the threshold where Emma had asked the queen to stay while she investigated.

Emma held up a hand to stop her from coming any closer. Regina halted, something about the savior’s serious, stiff posture making her pause.

“Regina, there’s an evidence kit in my car under the passenger’s seat. Grab it.”

The Sheriff worked carefully to remove the little sliver from Henry’s car seat bed. Her brow furred and her jaw set as she stared at it.

Regina shifted on her feet impatiently as she tried to see over Emma’s crouched form.

“Well?” she demanded, trying hard to sound in control of this situation, despite the obvious panicked spiraling Henry's absence was causing her.

“uuuuuhhhhh.” Emma sighed, holding up the sealed evidence bag to the light as she squinted at it in confusion.

“I literally have no idea what I’m holding.”

A moment passed with Emma squinting up at the pointy shard, Regina leaning over her shoulder before the queen suddenly snatched the bag out of the other woman’s hand.

Emma turned quickly, getting to her feet to see Regina running out of the study with the evidence bag in her left hand.

“Hey!” Emma started, “you can’t just-” She growled following after the former queen with annoyance, “That’s police evidence, you can’t just-“

Emma paused, watching Regina shove a particularly high stack of books carelessly to the floor. The tower toppling over onto the oak floors with a _thunk_ , several spellbooks skittering across the floor.

Emma winced, “What are you doing?”

Regina didn’t even acknowledge her as she tugged a dark green book from the previously capsized stack, flipping through it furiously.

The mayor stopped suddenly, hair in her face and a determined expression as she held up a page with a depiction of a little shard identical to the one still clasped in Regina’s hand.

Emma’s mouth opened in surprise, she hadn’t been expecting Regina to find the answers to all their problems that quickly. There had to be at least two thousand books on magic in her house, and yet the mayor knew exactly where she’d seen a shard like that before.

Emma eyed the woman in front of her with a level of respect and awe she had only previously reserved for the queen’s parenting skills.

Regina smirked, a self-satisfied gleam in her eyes, as she brushed the dark hair out of her eyes,

“Look familiar, sheriff?”

* * *

“So.” Emma paused, trying again for the hundredth time to wrap her mind around the last couple of hours.

After Regina found a match to the little iron shard in Henry’s bed, the mayor had rather quickly marched to her hall closet pulled on a pair of hiking boots, and walked out of her house. Leaving Emma standing in the silent study holding a book and a piece of metal.

Marching off toward the edge of town in blue silk sleepwear, matching robe, and hiking boots. Dusk edging into the sky, as street lights began to flicker to life. Emma pitied the witch dumb enough to mess with their son, as she pulled on her jacket and followed after the mayor.

Now here they were traipsing through the woods as the sun went down, the forests getting darker as they traveled deeper than Emma had ever gone before.

The sheriff cleared her throat, trying again to string a question together without having any idea what they were doing.

“I’m assuming this has something to do with the iron shard?”

Regina scoffed, but otherwise didn’t respond as she trudged through the woods, Emma trailing behind. A particularly cold wind wiped through the trees and Emma pulled her leather jacket closer to her body.

She was freezing. She’d dressed for Maine, but there was a new level of cold that settled in once the sun set.

Emma eyed the queen’s bare legs suspiciously, there was no way she wasn’t cold. However, as hard as she looked, she couldn’t even see a single goosebump across smooth tanned thighs.

“It’s not a shard.” Regina finally spoke, shaking Emma roughly from her inner monologue. “It’s a tooth.”

Emma’s eyes snapped up from the expanse of the queen’s thighs feeling as though she’d been smacked, “Right you said that already, but why did Baby Yoda steal our kid?”

Regina scoffed again, suddenly taking a sharp right on the nonexistent trail she seemed to be following.

“Baba Yaga.” She corrected, “And I suspect she may have done more than just take him- I think she’s the reason he spontaneously became an infant.”

The woods suddenly opened up into a large clearing, and Regina halted at the edge of the forest. Emma quickly rounded on her “What I’m hearing is that none of this was ever my fault.”

“We still don’t know why she took him, Baba Yaga usually only takes children that are wicked.” Regina shrugged, feigning nonchalance, “Maybe your subpar parenting skills were more detrimental than I originally thought.”

Emma stepped forward into the queen’s personal space, but Regina refused to take a step back, smiling at Emma’s scowl with a mean kind of joy.

“You know what Regina,-“ Emma began, but quickly realized she had nothing to add to that, she’d never been much of a verbal fighter. Regina seemed to realize it too as she leaned closer to Emma’s face, triumph, and schadenfreude in her expression.

Emma felt her hand twitch, a vivid image of her fingers wrapping themselves around the queen’s neck filling her mind. Not to hurt her, just to wipe the smug look from her face. However, they both knew that for Henry’s sake, neither of them would lay a hand on the other, no matter how infuriating the situation.

Regina seemed to realize the moment all fight left the other woman, as the electricity surrounding them fizzled out. She nodded toward the clearing behind Emma, where a large stream cut it in half. A small cottage sat on the opposite edge, made of river stones with a thatch roof.

Emma’s head cocked to the side, it looked like something from Henry’s fairy tale book. Had this child stealing hermit not gotten the memo that they weren’t in the enchanted forest anymore?

Then suddenly Regina was brushing past her,

“Well Sheriff, thank you for the police escort but I can handle it from here.”

Emma sighed, tired of being dismissed as if their missing son wasn’t her concern, but Regina wheeled around,

“I said I’ve got this, why can’t you follow a simple instruction?”

Emma shifted on her feet, suddenly so tired of going in circles like this. They always fought but the last few days had taken their toll. There had been very minimum breaks between having to deal with Regina’s attitude in the last week and her patience was running low.

“He’s my son too.” She replied, tired and unwilling to play this game anymore today.

Regina scoffed, arms going around herself in that way Emma had long since realized meant she was feeling self-conscience,

“Your working uterus hardly makes you a mother.”

It was infuriating, knowing this person so well but not being able to do anything with that. Her feeling of anger mixing with guilt and empathy in an exhausting overload of emotions she had no idea how to deal with.

Emma had spent the better part of her life reading other people, as a foster kid, as a con artist, and as a bail bonds person, it was a survival tactic. In the beginning, Regina had been maddeningly confusing and full of contradictions, like learning a new language when you thought you had already mastered them all. However, they were a year and a half into this and while Regina still presented confusing and daily challenges, every once in a while; just when Emma was ready to give up, a little piece of the puzzle would slide into place. A bit of humanity would shine through and it made her ache.

It wasn’t fair that she couldn’t turn it off, it wasn’t fair that Regina could look at her, after a year and a half, and still see nothing but an enemy and an obstacle. Where Emma was forced to see this fragmented cracked little creature, so fragile and so annoying and feel an entire tornado of emotions every time they fought.

A constant need to bother her, mixing with the want to see her smile that bled into wanting to hurt her that eventually gave way to a need to protect her.

It was maddening, and every time she paused trying to make sense of what move to make next in this chess game from hell, Regina would smile. She would see the falter in Emma’s speech as a weak point and _push_.

“You are beyond your capabilities.” Regina’s dark voice shot through the silent peace of the clearing, the double meaning not lost on Emma at all.

“Fine.” Emma replied, in a petulant tone “You want me to leave you in the woods with a crazy woman who probably already hates you for some godforsaken thing you did to her in the old world -fine.”

Regina gave her a little smirk, glad to have gotten her way, and it infuriated Emma. Her entire body flushing with anger as she forced herself to trudge back into the forest instead of do harm to the mother of her child.

* * *

Regina trekked across the clearing, feeling that self-satisfied sensation of getting her way mixing with a bittersweet frustration she couldn’t place.

If she was honest, she hadn’t minded Emma’s company in the woods. The sheriff’s stupid jokes and desperate attempts to lighten the mood somehow had grown on her during all of this. However, this wasn’t about her growing sufferance toward Henry’s birth mother. It was about saving him, and she would be damned if Emma, with her absolute cluelessness, took that away from her.

She had every intention of defeating Baba Yaga and getting Henry back without the help from any pretentious self-proclaimed hero types.

Since Henry had found out about the adoption their relationship had been strained. It had been mended by apologies and Regina’s desperate attempts to undo the last year, to stay away from magic even when it called to her, to go about things in a way that Henry would be proud of.

Now, a year and a half later, and she was sharing custody of the child she had single-handedly molded into a well-mannered smart young man with an overgrown child whom she had witnessed, first-hand, wipe hot Cheetos onto her jeans.

Yet somehow despite the hot Cheetos, and the less than refined vocabulary Henry still had stars in his eyes when he looked at Emma. Regina had been trying to get their relationship back for nearly two years, and he had barely looked at her with more than tolerance, and the occasional smile.

She lived on those smiles, it gave her hope that one day they could be the way they once were. They could have Star Wars marathons and talk about Marvel movies and Lost in Space again. Things that Emma didn’t care about because she was a brute and didn’t deserve the pedestal she’d been put on.

Regina stopped abruptly at the rickety little fence surrounding the stone cottage. On each and every wooden post sat a small scull; obviously human, but too little to be from an adult.

The queen’s heart dropped, and a cold sweat pricked across her skin, suddenly remembering a very important detail.

Most of the children that were taking by Baba Yaga ended up in a stew.

Her mind immediately filled with the worst possible outcomes, as that was what she usually received, before pushing them to the back of her mind.

Henry didn’t deserve that, and she would do whatever it took to get him back.

The queen’s hand reached out toward the little gate, only to have the vine roses growing along the fence slither around the lock, their thorns menacing and protective. Regina growled, she had successfully stayed away from dark magic for the better part of a year. Dr. Hopper had even gone so far as to give her a little wooden purple token that had the words ‘one year clean’ etched into them like she was some kind of addict. Which, she supposed she was, all things considered.

She’d worked hard to gain back Henry’s tentative trust, but now she didn’t see another option.

Fire lit up in her palm, flickering to life and warming her in a way that nothing else ever had. She tried not to linger on how good it felt to feel her magic unfurl and stretch over her skin, like relaxing into a warm soothing bath after being out in the cold too long.

She felt stronger, and more in control than she had in a whole year, as she threw every bit of her anger into the fire she was creating. Throwing it at the thorn-covered vines and the wooden gate without discrimination, until they were both a pile of ash.

Regina smiled darkly, stepping over the singed remains ready to destroy anything this old hag put in her path.

“Such impatience.”

Regina whirled toward the direction of the voice, another fire already forming in her palm; warm and fueled by righteous anger toward her innocent son’s captor.

“Ah-ah” the woman waved a hand and the fire in Regina’s hand went out “we’ll have no more of that.”

Regina’s hand fell to her side, her shoulders slumping as she looked at the old woman smiling back at her. She had expected a lot of things from the feared Baba Yaga, but an old woman in a sun hat tending her garden hadn’t been one of them.

The old woman seemed to regard her for a long moment, a sort of amusement in her eyes before going back to her flowers.

“You can start by fixing the damage to my gate and the Hedge Roses. They were a gift from an old friend, and I’ve tended them longer than you’ve been alive.”

Regina placed her hands on her hips, giving this strange woman a petulant stare,

“Excuse me?”

Baba Yaga sighed, leaning back on her heels where she was crouched in the dirt before turning to a little basket at her side and giving it a knowing glance.

“You were right little rabbit _,_ she doesn’t know how to listen.”

Regina approached slowly, arms going around herself protectively as she watched the old woman smile down at the basket. The queen’s stomach dropping as she edged close enough to see over the rim of the hand-woven basket, where Henry lay, wrapped in a blue blanket, a knitted little hat on his head.

“But we’ll fix that won’t we?” Baba Yaga cooed, running the back of her knuckle over Henry’s fat little cheek. Regina eyed Henry desperately, magic sparking at her fingertips as she briefly thought of setting the witch on fire.

The old woman sighed, turning back to Regina, “Fix the hedge rose.” She commanded, her pruning shears pointed loosely at Regina, “Then the gate, and after that is done, we can talk about your little one.”

The queen rolled her eyes going back to the fence and raising a hand to reverse the trauma she’d created. Quickly reassembling the gate and reviving the rose bush with about as much effort as it took her to flick unwanted lent from one of her mayoral pantsuits.

Regina turned back to the old hag with an agitated expression, but the witch didn’t even look up as she continued to prune her roses, Henry sleeping peacefully by her side.

Finally, she let out a long-suffering sigh, glancing at Regina out of the corner of her eye as if the queen’s presence was a nuisance. Regina met the witch’s withering gaze with expectance and annoyance.

She had come here to save Henry, not learn new gardening tips. Not to mention that Baba Yaga’s garden was overflowing, no order or structure to the apparent madness, just vines, and ivy winding up everything in its path.

With a snap of the old witch’s fingers, her gardening tools disappeared in a pale blue smoke. As she got to her feet, she gathered the woven handles on Henry’s basket in one of her hands, a bag of her pruned roses in the other.

“Here.” She sighed shoving the rose bag into Regina’s empty arms, “If you have to be here, be useful.”

The old witch brushed passed her, her full slumped height only reaching Regina’s shoulders as she slowly made her way toward the cottage.

Regina followed begrudgingly, her mind dreaming up ways to end this woman and get her son back as she glared intently at the old hag’s back.

Once inside the little stone cottage, Baba Yaga placed Henry and his basket by the hearth, hanging her sun hat by the door.

“Hang up the flowers by the stems on that twine above the fireplace and pull down the dried ones- I’m in the mood for a nice hot borage and cabbage rose.” She commanded Regina idly, flicking her wrist toward the large caldron sitting in the fireplace. A warm fire blazed to life and Henry fussed in his little basket.

Regina moved to care for him immediately, disregarding everything else as she placed the bag of roses on a large oak table. 

Baba Yaga sighed, rolling her eyes at Regina’s disregard for her orders. Snapping her fingers, a glass bottle of milk appeared and levitated above Henry.


	3. Chapter 3

Emma had never been overly fond of camping. Growing up in mostly cities, she had never had much experience with forests. Even after a year of playing sheriff in a town shrouded in mystery and large expanses of forest, she still much-preferred sidewalks and cars.

The sun had set a long time ago, and Emma had long since abandoned her aimless walk through the woods. She had no idea where she was or how to get out, as that had been the last thing on her mind when she'd followed Regina into the woods.

She sighed, pushing her damp hair out of her face. A slight rain had started nearly the second she'd stormed off, leaving Regina to get eaten by a hermit witch.

There was an annoying little voice in the back of her mind that wanted nothing more than to go back to that clearing. To find the cabin where she'd last seen Regina marching toward and barge in.

In her imagination, there was a hopeful almost childlike image of her bursting through the stone cabin doors at the last second. She would somehow fend off this bad guy she had no idea how to defeat and save Regina and Henry from their untimely demise.

An image of Regina, shaken and distraught flooded her mind. The mayor's arms going around Emma desperately, her breathing ragged as her arms stayed tightly wound around Emma's neck. The sheriff's own hands finding purchase at the small of the other woman's back. Henry, back to his old self running into the room and wrapping them both up in his arms, a family.

Emma shook herself from that fantasy, that was a dangerous part of her mind. The kind of hope that had broken her heart every time a family had sent her back like she was a product to be bought and returned for store credit.

A violent shiver ran up her spine and she tried desperately to fold into herself. It wasn't enough to be stuck in the dark in the middle of Maine where the nights brought freezes and ice, it had to also be raining.

She wasn't sure when she'd decided she wanted Regina in her life, much like Henry she'd wormed her way into what Emma had assumed was a solid impenetrable fortress and made her want them. There was a very real part of her that hated that; hated that she had, once again, fallen headfirst into a family that didn't need her and didn't want her. Henry was infatuated with her but that would ebb away as soon as he realized she wasn't what he wanted.

She'd never been what anyone wanted, much less a hero or a savior.

She shivered hard again, realizing suddenly that her teeth had started chattering. The otherwise silent peace of rain falling in the forest shattered by the sounds of her shivering, and she considered the very real possibility that she was going to freeze to death by herself in the dark.

In a sudden bout of determination, fueled by the desire to end her self-pity Emma forced herself to get up. Ass and jeans wet and clinging uncomfortably to her body. She could barely see in front of her face, but she wasn't going to die out here feeling sorry for herself.

Every joint in the sheriff's body ached with the cold that had set in, but she forced herself to move. She had been heading in what she was positive was a straight line for the last several minutes, most of her focus placed on avoiding the large roots and uneven terrain.

Emma trudged along in the dark for what felt like an agonizingly long time, hair plastered to her face from being out in the slight rain for so long. Most of her face feeling very numb as she forced herself forward through the dark expanse of forest.

Then suddenly the dense root systems seemed to ebb away, and the brush lessened. The sheriff picked up her pace a bit, she was sure she could see a dim light up ahead. She could practically taste the grilled cheese and tomato soup from Granny's as she pushed past the tree line expecting to find civilization.

The sheriff's heart dropped in her chest, her aching body slumping in frustration and exhaustion.

She was back in the clearing where she had left Regina hours ago. Smokestacks rising from a slopped imperfect river rock chimney. The warm light of a fire illuminating the little windows.

Emma rubbed her hands over her face, scrubbing at her tired eyes in frustration. She was more than positive she had been heading in the exact opposite direction since dusk. She turned her back toward the cabin determined to walk in a straight line from the clearing out of this horrible forest, but she couldn't force herself to move.

The savior half-turned back toward the clearing, the corner of her eye settling on the little cottage in the distance. It had been much easier to walk away and leave Regina when she'd been mad, but it had been hours.

Her entire body went a sinking anxious cold at the idea that something bad could have happened to Henry, to Regina, while she'd been off in the woods moping.

Her eyes stayed fixed on the distant cottage as her right hand slipped under her jacket and pulled out her police-issued gun.

It wasn't something she always liked to carry, but before going to investigate Henry's last known location, she'd slipped the holstered weapon on, just in case.

Now, as she clicked off the safety and pointed the weapon toward the ground, walking quickly toward the cabin, Emma was very glad she had brought it. If Henry and Regina where in trouble, she'd rather be the girl who brought a gun to a magic fight than the girl that had nothing.

As the savior approached the gate her stomach began to twist, she had been the sheriff for nearly a year now, but she had yet to deal with anything truly gruesome. There was a time that Mary Margret had been framed for murder, but no one had ended up hurt.

She would never admit it, but she was beyond under-qualified for this job. Until Graham had hired her as a deputy, she'd never even held a gun before.

Emma reached the gate around the cottage and noted with horror that each fence post was adorned by what looked like tiny human skulls. Many of which were being overgrown by vines, flowers blooming in what used to be someone's eye sockets.

A chill ran down Emma's spine, but not from the rain or the cold air as she reached out her free hand toward the gate's latch.

Immediately as Emma's hand neared, vines began to slither over the door, large thorns pointed out towered Emma's flesh menacingly. The sheriff paused a moment before her eyes rolled.

These storybook characters and their flair for the dramatic.

She wasn't entirely sure the thorns wouldn't put her under a sleeping curse if she accidentally touched one, but Emma had broken into enough places. Thousands of places she hadn't had any business being in over the expanse of her life, and if there was one thing that had taught her it was how to hop a fence; magic or otherwise.

Re-holstering her gun securely, Emma took a few steps back. The wooden fence at its tallest still only reached Emma's waist, she was more than confident in her ability to jump that high.

Since coming to Storybrooke, Emma had spent far less time chasing bail jumpers and a lot more time at a desk than she ever had before. However, she had scaled fences four times the height of this little wooden one.

Emma took a few steps back, preparing to get a running start as she eyed the little fence, looking for the least pointing place to grab to vault herself over. Her eyes trained on one of the tiny skulls, a bunch of little blue flowers falling out of its mouth but untouched by the roses or thorns.

The sheriff sighed taking off at a sprint toward the skull with the blue flowers, hand finding purchase on top of its head as she pushed her full body weight upwards.

She winced as the sound of the little skull cracking, a whispered apology falling from her lips as she landed on the other side of the fence, unscathed.

Emma righted herself with a sense of accomplishment, her hands going to straighten her jacket when she suddenly froze with realization.

It was sunny.

More than that it was warm as if Emma had not just been trudging through the mud and the rain and the cold seconds before.

The savior whirled around, facing the clearing she'd just been in, but it was blurry, like looking through someone else's glasses. Emma turned her attention back toward the cabin, where smoke still rose steadily from the chimney, the old wooden front door, rounded at the top, now fully visible without the shrouded cover of rain and night.

Emma felt entirely jarred; her whole sense of being thrown off by the literal day and night she was witnessing.

The cottage looked far less menacing with the happy sunshine beaming down on it, the sheer expanse of flowers and plants surrounding it making the location much more 'cottage in the forest' than 'cabin in the woods'.

Emma hesitantly pulled out her gun from under her jacket, utterly confused by the abrupt change in scenery as she crept toward the little house.

A happy little bee flew past, collecting pollen from the copious surrounding flowers as Emma tried to mentally prepare herself to kill another living person. She'd been carrying a police-issued gun for as long as she'd been working at the sheriff's department, but she had yet to point it at anything other than a paper target. In reality, Emma had never been overly fond of weapons, but if she walked into this cabin, and Regina and Henry were hurt, she was more than willing to make an exception.

Emma stepped carefully toward the cottage entrance, meticulously avoiding making any noise as she positioned herself just to the side of the worn wooden door, gun ready and pointed skyward as she reached out to twist the door handle.

However, before she could reach, the door swung opened on its own.

Emma blinked dumbly, still hidden to the side of the door, unsure what had just happened.

"Come in little rabbit." An older woman's voice beckoned. (adjective).

Emma stood dumbly, her side still pressed to the cabin, out of sight. Unsure what the correct reaction to this should be.

"You're a bit late but at least you're in time for dinner."

Dinner

Emma's ears perked up, she hadn't eaten anything all day. However, she'd also seen Henry's storybook, being invited into a weird lady's house for dinner might mean she was planning on cooking you.

There was a pause as Emma tried to devise a plan for what to do now. When a different voice spoke.

"Emma?"

The sheriff's heart leaped into her throat, that voice she recognized. Without thinking Emma appeared in the threshold to find Regina and an old lady sitting at an oak table, both of them staring back at her.

Emma let her hand holding the gun fall to her side as she stepped into the small cabin, the wooden door closing behind her with a flick of the old lady's wrist.

The sheriff's opened her mouth, ready to ask Regina a lot of questions.

"Well sit down." The old lady demanded tiredly, another bowl appearing at the table next to Regina. A levitating ladle dipped into a large pot and then moved to pour a thick green substance into the bowl before disappearing in a cloud of smoke. "I knew you'd show up eventually, but you certainly took your time."

Emma found her way to the table, a bit too lost to do more than what she was told.

As she rounded the bench Regina was sitting on, she noticed the basket at the queen's feet, Henry's tiny form tucked safely inside.

Emma glanced at the mayor, catching her eyes briefly as she moved to sit next to her on the little bench.

Two years could be a long time, long enough that when Emma looked at Henry's basket and then back at his other mother Regina was more than capable of understanding Emma's unspoken question. The gist of which was, 'pick him up and we run?'

To which Regina shook her head imperceptibly, her eyes a bit wide as she made a meaningful glance toward the witch across from them.

"I can hear you." Baba Yaga added and both of the women's attentional snapped back to her.

Baba Yaga smiled, pleased with the undivided attention as she snapped her fingers materializing a pair of very round coke bottle glasses, which she rested on the crook of her large nose.

"Good." She sighed, a large piece of parchment emerging from a cloud of mauve smoke, "now that both parties are here, we can get started."

Regina's head cocked to the side and Emma's stomach dropped. If there was anything Emma had grown to hate in the year since magic had come to Storybrooke it was Regina's head tilt. Anything that proceeded that little confused gesture was always bad, and it meant the only person with a clue what was happening had just lost any semblance of an upper hand.

Emma watched out of the corner of her eye as that blip of confusion dissipated to give way to a mask of haughty superiority. A mask, Emma had realized a few months ago, was a desperate grapple to hide insecurities.

The queen scoffed, her posture becoming ridged. "I've never made a deal with you."

Baba Yaga gave a knowing smile over the thick rim of her round glasses,

"No." she agreed, turning the contract toward Emma and Regina.

A wobblily signature adorned the bottom and Emma felt her heart drop.

"But your boy did."


	4. Chapter 4

Emma sat perched on a small iron bed, legs crossed as she watched Regina pace back and forth in front of her. Every few turns the silk robe the queen was still wearing would slip off one of her shoulders and she would pause momentarily to grumble and pull it back into place. 

Emma wasn’t sure how long Regina had been doing this, but she did know that the candles in the far corner were now dripping on to the floor.

“Regina,” Emma tried softly, unsure what else to say. 

“I just don’t understand why Henry would do something like this, why would he sign a deal with that witch?”

Emma shrugged, as far as she knew Henry had very little interest in magic or anything that came from it. “Maybe she coerced him into it, to get to you.”

Regina scoffed “Baba Yaga doesn’t leave her wood Emma, she’s not like Rumple or Maleficent, or” she paused making an annoyed gesture about the room, “Me.”

Emma smirked, perching her head on her fist as Regina resumed her pacing,

“She doesn’t leave the woods, you have to go looking for her. When you’re good and lost is when you’ve found her. The grandmother of all children, the oldest of them all.”

Emma shook her head, a bit disbelieving. “Kay, no offense but I would never want my bio to say the ‘oldest of all’.”

Regina rolled her eyes “Well it’s good you aren’t a magic practitioner then, we don’t get the most gracious of descriptions.”

Emma snorted, and a moment passed where Emma truly believed they might be getting along. 

Then Henry started wailing.

Regina blinked slowly as if waking up from a daydream before going to Henry’s aid. He had been placed in a little wooden bassinet in the corner, a luxury the old witch had created with a bored flourish. However, for whatever reason, the old woman could not produce an extra bed for the two women.

Emma twisted on the bed to watch Regina lay Henry down and begin undressing the crying baby. Her voice soothing as she worked to eradicate anything that could ever bother him.

“What do you think he asked her for?”

“Hmm?” Regina questioned as she changed their baby’s diaper. Not bothering to look up from his red wailing little face. 

“Henry,” Emma clarified, “What do you think he asked her for?”

Regina sighed “I wouldn’t begin to know, aren’t you the one he talks to now?”

Emma shrugged, “Not about this. To be honest, the days leading up to all this he’d been kinda moody.”

Regina snorted “He’s eleven, Miss Swan.”

Emma sighed, that wasn’t what she meant. The more she thought about the moments leading up to Henry becoming a baby the more she realized the kid had been off. Kind of reserved and a bit annoyed, in fact as Regina had dropped him off, he’d made several comments about how they had refused to even be in the same room. Preferring to watch him walk from car to front door on his own and wait for a text from the other before driving away.

In fact, as far back as she and Regina’s chat history went, she doubted much of anything had been said besides texting the word ‘here’ back and forth every other week.

She wasn’t sure what any of that had to do with Henry becoming an infant, or why that had even been part of his wish. Emma flopped down onto the bed, her brow furrowed as she tried to understand why Henry had gone looking for this old witch. What could he have possibly wanted so bad as to let a weird old witch turn him into an infant?

Emma’s eyes followed Regina as she put a now sleeping Henry back in his little bassinet before shrugging out of her silk robe. Emma’s eyes quickly shot to the ceiling, her mind going purposefully blank as she listened to Regina shuffle about the tiny stone room.

Regina snuffed out the candles that were illuminating the room, leaving them in what might have been the most complete darkness Emma had ever experienced. 

Regina sighed, “you should get ready for bed, Baba Yaga isn’t a let your guest sleep in kind of hostess.”

Emma shifted slightly but kept her eyes trained on the dark expanse in front of her, the sheriff’s body shifting a bit as Regina pulled up the quilt she was laying on and settled under it. 

Emma cleared her throat awkwardly in the pitch-black room as she removed herself from the bed with a sudden wash of uncertainty. Shucking off her boots and idly fiddling with the button of her pants, wondering if she should just sleep in her jeans. 

“I could put Henry between us if you want.” She offered, feeling unsure about crawling into bed with the mayor. The idea of her thin sky blue silk shorts and little matching top doing little to quell her anxiety.

Regina scoffed, “Don’t be ridiculous, he wouldn’t be safe.”

Emma fidgeted in the dark room, the cold from the rocks under her feet beginning to seep into her skin. 

“Well, I could just put his basket then. Since he’s in the bassinet?”

There was a long pause and Emma could feel her hands getting clammy, she wasn’t sure when the idea of Regina in nothing, but thin silk had started making her sweaty. However, at that moment it was heavily affecting her fight or flight response, despite the fact, the sheriff couldn’t see three feet in front of her face.

“Miss Swan.” Another pause then, “I only bite upon request.” She deadpanned, eye roll evident in her tone.

* * *

  
The next morning Emma was rudely awoken by the sounds of Henry’s wailing cries, the sun having yet to actually return to the sky. 

From somewhere behind her Emma heard a heavy sigh, as Regina stirred awake. The candles around the cold stone room suddenly flickering back to life as Regina rose to care for Henry. 

Emma squeezed her eyes shut tightly, willing sleep to return to her. Last night hadn’t been the most restful, she wasn’t sure what time she’d actually made it to Baba Yaga’s cabin, but it had been late. Most of the savior’s night having been spent wandering through the endless woods in the cold rain. She wasn’t ready to face whatever today held yet.

Regina pulled Henry from his little bed, the boys loud cries becoming quieter as she rocked him.

“I don’t have anything to feed him.” She commented, “I didn’t bring anything from the house with me- I didn’t think”

Before she could finish her sentence, the little rounded door burst opened in a gust of mauve magic. The sound of pots and pans clanking together flooding the small bedroom and Emma cracked opened one eye.

Out of the corner of her vision, Emma could see several pans floating about the room, a fire blazing in the hearth as food appeared to be cooking itself. In the center of it all was a small old woman reading a farmer’s almanac, paying no mind to the pots and pans flying about the room.

Emma sat up, she’d seen magic. Regina had just turned all the candles on with little more than a loud sigh, but this was what she had pictured when Henry said a town of fairytale characters.

A pan full of sizzling bacon whizzed by at eye level, tipping onto a serving platter in the center of the large oak table. Emma’s stomach growled as she watched another pan do the same with a mountain of scrambled eggs, as a skillet idly flipped several pancakes.

Regina walked closer to where Emma was now sitting up in the bed, Henry against her chest as they watched the magic cookware.

Baba Yaga eyed them over the rim of her glasses, just as a petite kettle poured its contents into a little floating teacup.

“Well?” The old woman hedged, gesturing about the larger room. Emma shifted under the quilted bedding, her eyes drifting to where her pants and bra were draped over a little wooden chair.

Baba Yaga seemed to follow this, and with a snap of the old woman’s fingers, she and Regina were back in their clothes, feeling freshly laundered.

Emma smiled, feeling far cleaner than she had a minute ago as she walked into the main room of the cabin and took a seat on the little bench across from Baba Yaga.

Regina followed at a cautious distance, absently bouncing Henry in her arms as she took in the various flying objects. From the table, Emma could see what appeared to be clothes washing themselves in a large basin, and an abnormally small goat being milked by magic in the corner.

Regina settled delicately next to Emma on the little bench, as a secondary tea cup settled in front of the mayor, steam rising steadily.

Baba Yaga cleared her throat, setting her almanac aside, as Emma began shoveling little chocolate-filled croissants onto her plate.

Henry started to fuss again just as a little bottle made its way from the corner with the goat to Henry’s mouth.

“Thank you.” Regina murmured, softer than Emma had ever heard her speak. 

Baba Yaga inclined her head, watching as Henry’s little face scrunched in concentration, little hands settling on either side of the glass bottle as he drank.

“He’s very kind, your boy.” Baba Yaga noted, Regina visibly brightening at the comment.

“He is.” She agreed readily, her eyes filled with pure affection as she gazed down at Henry. 

Emma smiled at that, Regina often became soft toward their son but it never ceased to make Emma’s entire body feel warm. She’d made that tiny person; on accident, and not from the best of circumstances, but Regina looked at him like he was the entire universe and that was sufficient to fill her with enough pride she might burst. 

“He’s the best” Emma agreed wholeheartedly, Henry was by far the best thing she had ever done in her entire life, and after almost two years of being with him she couldn’t imagine a life without him.

The old witch smiled warmly producing a large piece of parchment out of thin air. 

“Right well,” she sighed moving around the large table to take Henry in her arms “we’ll let you get to it.”

Emma watched as Regina hesitantly let go of their son, her hands falling limply into her lap as she looked at the old witch with measured animosity. 

Emma had figured they wouldn’t be allowed to take Henry off the grounds until this entire ordeal was dealt with, but apparently Regina hadn’t come to the same conclusion. The queen’s hands twisted in her lap as she watched Henry get rocked by the woman holding them all captive.

“why a baby?” The two witches turned their attention to Emma, who shifted awkwardly on the bench seat, “Henry was only eleven- why turn him into a baby first?”

Regina rolled her eyes, obviously not caring to know the motives of someone who had taken their child. However, Emma was very curious, so she ignored the dull look on Regina’s face. 

Baba Yaga smiled warmly but otherwise didn’t respond to the question, as Henry’s tiny fist stretched up and made contact with the old witch’s cheek.

“The two of you will find three things for me- every day I will tell you what you are looking for and where to find it and you will return it to me before midnight of that day.” 

Regina nodded as if this was obvious and Emma wished for the umpteenth time since the curse broke that she was surrounded by normal people and not fairytale characters. She would do anything to go back to just fighting with Regina over town bureaucracy and not whether or not a magic old lady had stolen their son. 

When neither of them said anything, the old witch gave a curt nod and started toward the front door to the cottage. She stopped briefly to place a sun hat on her head and grab her withered basket with her free hand.

“Henry and I will be down by the river’s edge today, but I suggest the two of you get a move on.” The old witch hedged as a large parasol came flying out of the closet and into Baba Yaga’s waiting hand, wrapped in her signature mauve energy. 

Regina made a noise of exasperation as a large roll of paper materialized on the table in front of them next to a plate of cholate dipped scones.

“The map will answer any other questions you have,” the old witch remarked, already halfway out the door, “Try not to dawdle.”

With that the door closed itself, leaving Emma and Regina alone in the now quiet cabin. Several pots still stirring themselves, a shirt washing itself on a washboard in the corner.

“I-“ Emma shook her head, trying to make sense of anything that just happened, “Did she ever actually tell us what we're looking for today?”

“No.” Regina sighed tiredly, “No she did not.”


	5. Chapter 5

A particularly dense root system had Emma tripping over her own feet as she tried desperately to keep up with Regina’s angry strides through the ever-thickening brush.

“Regina can you just-.” The savior stumbled forward, another branch catching her foot. She caught herself quickly, lurching headlong through sodden leaves and uneven root-filled terrain.

It was the middle of the summer but when you got this far into the woods, there was no season but wet and clammy. However, Maine wasn’t exactly known for its warm dry climate, even on its best days.

They’d been doing this for a while, Emma offering vague direction and trying to make sense of the map in her hands. While Regina seethed and snipped and offered little assistance as she begrudgingly followed Emma’s ambiguous directions. At this point, Emma was more than positive they were going in circles, the map in her hands telling her very little beyond the fact that they were in a forest.

“What now?” Regina questioned, tired, and demanding. Emma rolled her eyes,

“I don’t know Regina,” Emma responded defensively, “It still says we're in the forest and that seems to be pretty accurate.”

The queen growled, her hands going into her hair, “This is useless, what kind of fucking school did you go to?”

“A normal one.” Emma sighed, she knew how to read a map but the vague shapes that were scrawled onto the paper in front of her wasn’t exactly a map. “Look where I’m from maps have landmarks, this doesn’t exactly have street names, Madam Mayor.”

“This is entirely futile,” Regina growled under her breath as Emma plopped herself down on the trunk of a fallen log. The soaked bark immediately seeping into the butt of her jeans, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. Regina was pacing now, her hands on her hips drawing back the sides of her silk robe. Emma watched her, unsure if comforting the queen would actually do more harm than good.

“Why would she give us a map that only you can read?” Regina asked, and Emma shrugged.

“Maybe she just didn’t think about it.”

Regina scoffed, “No, that’s not how this game works- I just don’t know what her angle is.”

Emma picked at the dead bark of the tree under her with growing agitation,

“Regina what game? It’s a laundry list at best- were running errands for a psycho hermit with too many rose bushes; not playing evil chess.”

Regina paused letting out a sigh, “What did the clue at the bottom of the map say again?”

Emma rolled her eyes, she didn’t even have to look at the stupid map in her left hand to repeat it. Regina had already asked her a thousand times, still, Emma repeated the words dutifully.

“Ring of old worlds transposed in meadow grove, with honest promise meet no ensnarement. Return with haste the leaves of bloom and life anew.” Emma repeated in a bored tone, before quickly adding,

“Which literally means nothing.”

“Well, where is the meadow located on the map?” Regina asked and Emma pointed to the top left quadrant of what appeared, to Regina, to be a blank piece of paper. Still, Regina stared at the place where Emma was pointing, willing the map Emma swore she saw to appear to her.

Emma groaned, letting her hands fall into her lap, the map crumpling a bit with her carelessness. “Regina this is pointless, why can’t we just go back to the cabin, fight the old lady for Henry, and go home.”

Regina scoffed crossing her arms over her chest and leveling Emma with an unimpressed look. To be honest, it sounded more appealing then this deranged scavenger hunt. However, she would never leave Henry’s life to chance, Baba Yaga was more powerful and renown than any sorceresses she’d been up against before. It was better to play by her rules than risk Henry’s safety.

“Tough talk for a Disney princess.”

Emma scowled at the teasing remark in a way that was very reminiscent of Henry, and Regina felt her heart lurch. She missed Henry’s pre-teen attitude and near-constant annoyed expressions. A week ago, they had been the bane of her existence but now, without them, she was a little lost.

Emma fussed with the barely legible map in her hands, trying to will the scribbled trees and strongly nonspecific landmarks to suddenly make sense. She’d never wanted to be the savior or the breaker of the curse or any other stupid name the town had given her in the last year. However, at this exact moment, she realized she very much wished she was capable of being the knight in shining armor everyone had expected her to be. 

“We need a different plan,” Emma stated firmly, trying to sound assertive.

“And here I thought wandering around in the forest hoping for the best was the finest plan we had.” Regina rolled her eyes, her deadpan tone making Emma want to scream.

This is why they had yet to get anywhere. Emma tried to be a team player, tried to offer Regina olive branch after olive branch, and every single time it was returned with sarcasm.

Not that she could say she was above it, she had risen to the bait without fail every single time. 

“I’m not doing this,” Emma stated tiredly, getting up from her seat on the fallen log.

Emma usually liked to take Regina in doses, like a foul medicine or a very strong shot. However, they had spent less time apart in the last couple of days than her parents had after the curse finally broke. Emma smirked to herself hearing Regina begin to follow behind her at a reluctant, slow pace.

The sheriff was so busy reveling in this victory and trying to picture Regina’s brooding pouty expression that she didn’t even notice as the trees began to clear. The perpetually wet ground becoming overgrown with high grass and wild purple asters.

Emma’s smirk faltered as a loud hum filled her ears and she paused to examine her surroundings more closely. In the center of the meadow, a ring of white toadstools drew Emma’s attention. However, it wasn’t the mushrooms that made her question the circle, but the tea set that sat directly in the middle.

“Huh,” Emma commented, mostly to herself as she watched the mist rise from the obviously enchanted teapot placed within the mushroom circle.

“What?” Regina replied as she appeared out of the tree line, brushing something off her silk sleepwear.

“I’m not saying I found it, but unless those mushrooms are having high tea.”

Emma trailed off as she began to walk toward the strange little setup. The sheriff wasn’t exactly sure what she had expected, but something about the way Regina had informed her Baba Yaga ate children made her think these tasks were going to be a whole lot more sinister than having a forced picnic in a field of pretty purple flowers.

“Wait.”

Emma halted, turning to look at Regina with a questioning stare. Regina fell into the space to the sheriff’s right before continuing.

“That’s a fairy ring, we need to be prepared.”

Emma looked back at the large brim of white mushrooms, then to the little picnic blanket and snacks, she could now make out from just a few feet away.

“What, the little mushroom circle?” Emma smirked unimpressed. “Regina this is Maine, the only fairies here live in a convent off Camelia Drive.”

Regina sighed grabbing Emma’s arm before she could walk any closer,

“Yes and were doing tasks for a witch in the woods, in a magic town I made out of spite.”

Emma sighed but inclined her head to let Regina go ahead of her. It pained her to have to trail behind Regina again, after finally taking the lead. It was even more painful to have to admit, even without any words, that not only was Regina right; but she also knew better.

“I can’t sense anything about it, I’m trying to project my magic into it, and nothing will hold.”

Emma watched from above as the severest woman she’d ever met dropped onto her bare knees in the dirt. Her little silk robe pooling around her as she poked at the air around the mushroom ring with lilac essence.

“What’s that mean?”

Regina shrugged, dropping her hands into her lap with a little sigh “It means that whatever this is my magic will be neutralized once were inside- I won’t be able to get us out.”

Emma nodded stuffing her hands in her pockets as Regina added,

“And based on that I assume we won’t be able to step out once we’re in, Otherwise, there wouldn’t be a point of taking away my magic.”

The sheriff nodded, although she could think of a few reasons she would like it if Regina didn’t have magic while they were stuck in a little circle together.

“So, what’s with the snacks?”

Regina shrugged, “I assume that’s just part of the puzzle, although it could also be enchanted.”

“Well, what happened in the old world if you stepped in a mushroom circle.”

“Fairy ring.” Regina corrected

Emma smiled, she knew that, was more than capable of retaining new information minutes after receiving it. But she liked the scrunched-up confusion on Regina’s face when she said things as wrong as she could manage. It was entertaining and made the normally stiff mayor look softer somehow.

Regina turned her attention back to the fairy ring,

“And they used to trap you and force you to dance like an idiot until you died of exhaustion, or went crazy, and then died.”

Emma eyed the queen sitting in the dirt for a moment, unsure what to do with that information.

“Great,” Emma commented, eyeing the mushrooms wearily.

Regina held out a hand toward the now vaguely ominous tea party,

“After you.”

Emma watched from her place on the picnic blanket as Regina joined her in the fairy ring and gracefully took a seat across from her.

They both watched each other in silence for a few moments before Emma finally spoke.

“Do you feel any different?”

Regina shook her head eyeing the silver three-tier filled with snacks and the magically boiling tea kettle between the two of them.

Emma shrugged “Maybe this is just lunch. And were supposed to just keep looking after this.”

Regina snorted, “Yes because one of the most powerful sorceresses in this realm is concerned about your hunger.”

“Well, this can’t be the challenge.” Emma countered waving her hand at the fancy tea party between them “because we're looking for something that blooms.”

The queen perked up a bit staring at the hot tea with realization, her voice sounding distant as she murmured,

“leaves.”

The savior’s face scrunched up with confusion as she considered the woman across from her. Truly trying to decide whether this whole ordeal had been the final straw, and if Regina had finally lost it.

Then the queen picked up the kettle and began pouring the tea into the two little cups.

“Miss Swan, how do you like your tea?”

Emma cocked her head to the side letting out a dumb, “Uh.”

As Regina scooped sugar from a little bowl into one of the cups and handed it to her.

The savior eyed it warily, looking between the pinkish liquid swirling around in her cup and Regina. The queen dutifully drizzled honey into her own cup and began stirring. She appeared lost in thought, and Emma shifted a bit awkwardly before deciding to break that concentration,

“Uh.” She paused, unsure what to actually ask, “Is this poison?”

Regina snorted tucking her legs under her, “What on earth brought you to that conclusion?”

Emma shrugged, “Two seconds ago you were scared of all this.” The sheriff gestured to the spread of food between them, “Now you’re offering it to me. I just figured-”

“That I had decided to use this trap as a means to rid myself of you?”

Emma shrugged again, her cheeks getting a bit warm as she realized how stupid that actually sounded out loud.

The queen watched Emma for a moment a playful smirk pulling at her dark lips,

“that’s a bit sinister for the current ambiance.”

Emma laughed awkwardly, unsure how to apologize for accusing her son’s mom of pre-meditated murder. However, for some reason, Regina was smiling at her, genuinely smiling, and Emma felt even more unsure how to deal with that.

“I suspect the leaves we’re looking for are at the bottom of the teapot.”

The sheriff’s eyes widened as realization hit her,

“Oh.” a pause, then “do we actually have to drink it?”

The queen raised an eyebrow, “I suspect that's part of the challenge, yes.”

Emma shifted the cup into her other hand “But what if we just,”

The savior paused, tipping the cup upside down to pour the tea into the grass, but nothing happened. Emma leaned forward to peer into the upside-down cup, where the tea stayed; unbothered by gravity.

“Did you really think solving this would be that easy?” Regina commented her eyebrow raised as she stirred her cup idly.

Emma inclined her head toward it, unwilling to admit that yes, she had thought it might be that easy.

“Well, I haven’t seen you take a sip yet.”

Regina shrugged, feigning nonchalance, “It’s obviously enchanted, I’m not going to humiliate myself while you are still lucid. I’m waiting for you.”

Emma scoffed, “No thank your majesty, I’m not going first so you can see how bad it is before you commit.”

There was a long tense silence as they both considered each other and the possibilities of what was to come. Emma’s eyes followed the mushroom ring idly as she imagined drinking this tea and having to dance like an idiot for hours or cry, or maybe this was a tiny arena and they would be forced to fight to the death inside a mushroom circle. 

“So, we do it together. Same time.” Emma suggested diplomatically even as she wished she could just slay another angry dragon instead of facing whatever this was going to do to her.

Regina nodded curtly, her expression serious as she locked eyes with Emma and agreed,

“Together.”

Emma held out her cup “For Henry.”

Regina’s face softened immediately, and they clinked teacups like they were both going to throw back the foulest shot.

Regina murmuring, “For Henry” softly before they both drank down the enchanted tea.

* * *

As soon as the liquid hit her mouth Regina could feel the magic bubbling and hissing through her body. Like carbonation fizzling out her nose and down her spine, making her a bit light-headed. Then, without warning her stomach dropped as if she was on a roller-coaster that had just tipped over the precipice and she was now falling to her doom. The queen swore she could hear the wind rushing past her as the words,

“Why won’t you fight with me?” came flying out of her mouth in a loud accusatory tone.

Emma’s head snapped up as she stared at Regina, dumbfounded. For her part Regina seemed to be just as startled by her outburst, touching her fingers to her mouth in confusion.

“I-“ Emma paused, her head felt funny; like it was full of mud and she couldn’t think. The pressure building until,

“It’s not that I don’t want to, you’re infuriating,” Emma replied throwing her hands up in a show of exasperation.

“So, what is it then? Does our verbal sparring no longer excite you?”

“What? No, it’s not that, of course, it does!”

Emma paused, she hadn’t meant to say that out loud, and there was something about the way Regina’s voice sounded. It was almost strangled as if she was trying very hard to not be talking at all, mixed with this weird frantic sort of panic that Emma had no idea what to make of.

The pressure in the savior’s head doubled, and her vision began to blur. She knew why she’d stopped rising to Regina’s baited remarks, for one thing, she was exhausted, but beyond that. Suddenly the pressure in Emma’s head became unbearable and all she could hear was the throbbing in her ears until,

“It’s because I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Hurt me?” Regina sneered, “You must think quite highly of yourself to think your little digs could ever even begin to-.”

She paused and Emma watched as Regina fought against whatever spell this was, breathing hard with her head in her hands.

“I’m not fragile!” she screamed, a bit shriller than her usual measured animosity allowed.

If Emma had any self-control at all she would have nodded and offered a swift, somewhat placating, agreement to that statement. However, as her head began to split with pressure, and the loud thrumming of her own blood began rushing through her ears; a soft,

“Yes, you are.” Slipped out of her mouth. That was quickly followed by, “but you’re also one of the strongest people I know, you are above and beyond what I hoped Henry would get for a mom. You run an entire town while raising a kid- and you can shoot fire out of your hands. You’re _incredible_.”

Regina’s hand went to her abdomen in that anxious defensive way, catching Emma’s attention. Similar to when she wrapped her arms around herself but with less visible motion. Emma assumed it was supposed to be less noticeable -It wasn’t. the sheriff grimaced, she’d learned not to do this because pushing Regina into a corner only made her cagey.

“Don’t mistake my civility toward you for weakness, Miss Swan.” Regina ground out in a low dangerous tone. “Need I remind you I am the _Evil Queen_ \- do you think I earned that title by happenstance? I slaughtered thousands, I have ripped the still-beating hearts out of the chests of men and felt the weight of their lives in my hands before snuffing it out like a candle. I have ruined more lives with a flick of my wrist than you could possibly imagine and manipulated people into ruining their own. I have wrought more destruction and chaos in a lifetime than you can ever hope to understand, and you are nothing. You are tiny and insignificant and ultimately powerless- you can hurt me.”

Regina stopped, panic in her eyes as she realized what she’d just said. The mayor shook her head doubling back “you _can_ hurt me.” She repeated, a frustrated panicked look in her eyes as she tried again,

“Can.”

And again,

“ _Can_.”

Emma took in a deep breath closing her eyes for a moment as she tried to deal with the waves of desperation and panic coming off of Regina, while knowing any offering of comfort would be met with seething anger. So instead she compromised, the tea wanted to tell the truth, but she could change the subject.

“My favorite color is yellow, it's happy and sunny and it makes me smile.”

There was a short pause as Regina glared at nothing in particular, but Emma was more than sure the spell would force a response out of her eventually.

“I like blue.” Came the hushed reply.

* * *

The sun had started to set, the sky was still light enough to see but everything was starting to get a grey tinge to it. Emma stared into the rapidly darkening sky, her gaze half-heartedly fixed on the lazy circling of a hawk flying overhead. She had moved onto her back some hours ago when sitting up and staring into Regina’s eyes had become particularly uncomfortable; for both her back and her general anxiety.

“When I was eight, I fell out of a tree and scraped my whole stomach,” Emma commented, no longer trying to fight the potion but also making no effort to talk about or think about anything too personal. She had learned the hard way that any truth that came to mind would come flying out of her mouth about an hour in when she had abruptly been forced to announce that, ‘she was kinda gassy.’

Regina had been nice enough not to laugh at that, however, Emma had quickly followed up that statement within the hour with a comment about Regina’s nice legs.

She had switched to staring at the sky shortly thereafter.

“My dad used to take me camping in this grove of trees near the ocean where I grew up, my mother made him stop after I broke my arm. I think I was ten?” Regina replied absently. The queen laughed softly “She was so furious at us.”

Emma smiled up at the sky, she’d never heard Regina speak so fondly of anyone besides Henry. “I broke my arm once when I was six and I tripped down some stairs.” Emma divulged with a laugh “And again in high school, I fell off my friend's skateboard. Busted my head pretty good too.”

The wind rustled and Regina shivered a bit as a cold chill ran down her spine. There was a moment of sharp pressure before Regina relented, “I should have changed before charging into the woods. I’m freezing.”

Emma screwed her eyes shut as pressure built in her head until she couldn’t stand it and the words, “I’ve noticed.” Came bursting forth out of her mouth against her own will.

A finger sandwich bounced off the side of Emma's face and she snorted turning to look at the mayor for the first time in several hours, “Miss your magic yet your majesty?”

Another sandwich hit her squarely in between the eyes and she suddenly felt the need to add, “It’s not my fault you ran into the woods in nothing but thin silk.”

This comment was followed by the whole tray of tiny foods being thrown in Emma’s direction.

“Ass.”

Emma sat up pulling her coat off and offering it to Regina, who had her knees drawn up to her chest trying to stay warm. “How much longer do you think we’ll be stuck here?”

Regina shrugged taking the jacket and draping it over her exposed legs, “I don’t know, I assume we just have to wait for this to wear off.”

“And then we just take the leaves in the teacup and run? Baba Yaga was pretty clear about that weird fairytale midnight deadline you all seem to live by.”

Regina snorted “I have never once given a deadline like that.” Then with a flippant wave of her hand, she added, “It’s not my style.”

“Oh, what like you’re so subtle?” Emma smirked and Regina shrugged looking a bit bored with this current topic.

Emma glanced into the meadow wishing they could be on their way back to their son already. In actuality, doing quests for a witch took a lot more time than it seemed to in books or movies. They had been telling the truth for hours, how much more truths could they possibly need?

The cold night wind swept through the meadow again rustling the tall grass and various other unkempt plants. “What’s your favorite flower?” Emma asked, unsure why she even wanted that information about the mayor.

“Lilies.” Regina replied in a bored tone before suddenly perking up, a real smile on her face as she quickly corrected in a giddy tone, “Wait that wasn’t true! Ask me another question.”

“Ok umm.” Emma floundered for a moment unsure what to even say,

“What’s your favorite dessert?”

“Apple pie,” Regina replied in a monotoned voice before letting out an uncharacteristically lighthearted laugh,

“That’s not true either.” She divulged somewhat conspiratorially before moving to get to her feet.

Emma furrowed her brow in confusion watching as Regina gathered the dainty cup, they’d filled with their combined tea leaves, as well as the map Baba Yaga had given them earlier that morning.

Standing quickly, Regina tossed the map and Emma’s jacket in the other woman’s vague direction. Her own gaze focused on the barrier that had kept them in the circle for hours, as she slowly reached out to test it with an opened palm, the teacup tucked tightly to her body in her other hand.

Emma didn’t catch the jacket as it was flung into her lap, she barely moved. For hours she had been daydreaming about the moment that this task would be over, and they would be allowed to go back to the cottage. No more truth spell, and no more wilderness. However, as she watched Regina’s hand fade through the barrier without a problem, Emma felt an unexpected level of disappointment.

Regina smiled brightly down at where Emma was still sitting, her coat haphazardly strewn over her lap where Regina had tossed it, “We did it, we're free, let’s go.”

Emma felt herself nod, but for some reason, she was no longer in a hurry to leave the circle. By the time Emma had gotten to her feet, her jacket back on and the map shoved in her back pocket, Regina was already outside the fairy ring with the teacup cupped in her hands.

“Hurry up so I can transport us back to the cabin and shove these tea leaves in that old hags face.”

Emma nodded and stepped over the rim of mushrooms on wooden legs, feeling a bit lost in her own thoughts. Regina offered one of her hands, tucking the teacup close to her body protectively, and Emma took it.

Without warning, Emma felt as if her whole body had been twisted up and left to spin out. Like a kid twisting up the ropes of swing and then letting gravity take them, except it wasn’t a swing it was magic and when Emma opened her eyes, they were standing outside the garden gate of Baba Yaga’s cottage.

Smokestacks rose from the river rock chimney peacefully and Emma smiled. A week ago, she would not have considered a hermit’s old-timey cottage to be civilization, but in her current circumstance, she’d take it. 

“God I missed my magic,” Regina commented, dropping Emma’s hand as she walked toward the wooden gate, entirely engrossed in her task of handing over the tea leaves with as much petulance as possible.

Emma watched as the mayor reached the gate and pushed through the enchanted hedge rose to guard the entrance with a burst of fire. The savior looked down at the palm of her hand, as the feel of Regina’s hand in hers dissipated in the icy evening air. She wasn’t sure why, but she felt weird like she had left something in the fairy ring but wasn’t exactly sure what.

Unwilling to linger on the long-term effects of fairy ring magic and her own sudden melancholic mood Emma pushed it to the back of her mind as she jogged to catch up with Regina.

“Hey,” Emma called, as she fell into step beside the queen on the little dirt path from the gate to the cottage’s front door.

“If you can just poof us wherever you want why couldn’t you have poofed us into the meadow this morning?”

Regina rolled her eyes, “It doesn’t work like that, I can’t go somewhere I’ve never seen. How would I be able to picture a place if I have no idea what it looks like?”

Emma shrugged dumbly as they neared the cottage’s oak door. The sheriff’s extent of knowledge on magic came from Harry Potter movies. Beyond owls delivering mail and quidditch teams, she wasn’t exactly educated on the inner workings of Regina’s fire hands or swirly purple cloud magic.

Before Emma could even touch the door, it swung opened revealing the cabin’s warm inviting interior. Various chores floated in the air as they seemingly completed themselves wrapped in mauve energy. A large fire crackled and rose in the fireplace on the left wall, while a small caldron stirred itself.

Henry was laying peacefully in a wooden bassinet, mauve energy rocking him softly. He was swaddled in what appeared to be a hand-knitted yellow blanket as he slept soundly next to a large floral wingback chair.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” Baba Yaga’s voice came from the wingback chair facing the fire.

Regina pushed passed where Emma was still standing in the doorway with the teacup in hand. “Yes.” Regina stated in a bored tone, thrusting the cup with its contents under the witch's nose forcefully.

“But I expected something a bit more challenging than a tea party.”

Emma shut the wooden door softly as she edged into the cottage hesitantly. She hated when Regina got like this, the sheriff had seen Regina interact with Mr. Gold enough times to recognize that condescending lilt for what it actually was. A sorcery pissing contest.

Emma had very little interest in making these stupid tasks more difficult, and she doubted that’s what Regina wanted either. However, for some reason, when it came to magic, and dealing with other magic people she got really weird and defensive.

“The tasks weren’t designed to be especially difficult.” Baba Yaga replied patiently, brushing the cup away from her face with a bored lazy push of two fingers.

From Emma’s new position near Henry’s bassinet, she could see the dull look Baba Yaga tossed in Regina’s direction, unwilling to take the bait the way Gold always did. Emma smiled to herself throwing Henry a secret look, that he would have understood if he was awake; and also, eleven again.

In front of Baba Yaga, a pair of knitting needles were crafting away, aided by mauve magic. While the old witch’s hands were holding a book, a pair of large coke bottle glasses rested on the crook of her nose. She could see why Henry had trusted her, she looked like a nice old grandmother in her chair like that, in fact, she sort of always looked like a nice old grandmother. Although, Emma actually had no experience with grandparents, so she had no real experience to back up that observation other than movies and tv.

“There is a strainer in the apothecary drawer, take the leaves over there and leave them to drain over an empty jar.” Baba Yaga cleared her throat not bothering to look up from her book as she instructed Regina.

The old witch watched Regina out of the corner of her eye with a bemused look, as the queen did as she was instructed without a word. Although somehow it was still apparent the mayor was vaguely annoyed.

Baba Yaga gave Emma a knowing look and they both smiled a bit. The old witch nodded toward the little cauldron by the fire. “There’s stew if you want it, truffle, potato, and celery root.”

“You know for a witch who eats children you certainly love vegetable soups,” Regina commented briskly from her place bent over an old wooden table, focusing hard as she poured the leaves into a sieve over a glass jar.

“I’m reformed.” Baba Yaga informed in a chastising tone. The old witch sighed, closing her eyes and shaking her head.

“That was in the old world, this world is different.” She added, then paused for a moment before leaning forward in her chair to look at Regina, still hunched over the apothecary. “You of all people should know what opportunities the dark curse wrought for those like us.”

Regina scoffed, shaking her head but didn’t comment as she finished her task at the apothecary table. Emma watched as the mayor carefully took Henry from the basinet, cradling him tenderly. Despite her obvious affection toward their son, Emma could feel the tension coming off the other woman in waves.

“I’m going to bed.” The queen informed stiffly before taking Henry into the little room Baba Yaga had given them. Leaving a tense silence in her wake. 

“So,” Emma cleared her throat, still watching the door to their room even after Regina had closed it behind her, unsure what had suddenly set her off.

“Not that I don’t love celery roots, but do you have like; a turkey sub?”

“I’m vegan.” Baba Yaga informed as if this was something to be expected, like the rain, or Henry having homework.

“You went from eating kids to full veganism? That some dedication.” Emma replied eyeing the yellowish soup simmering by the fire with weary hunger.

Baba Yaga laughed, a snap of her fingers making a little wooden bowl flying out of one of the many cabinets at her behest, and landing in Emma’s hands.

“I never ate any children.”

* * *

By the time Emma made her way to bed, the little room was pitch black. A hushed sleepy silence in the air, that Emma immediately eradicated with her awkward blind shuffling. She had her boots and socks off and her pants halfway down her legs when she tripped, stubbing her toe on the stone floor and hissing out several profanities, as she caught herself on the little wooden chair. 

Regina snorted from the bed at Emma’s obvious misfortune.

“Were you awake the whole time?” Emma asked, incredulously. 

There was a pregnant pause,

“Yes,” Regina replied, obviously amused.

Emma rolled her eyes but smiled in spite of the fact she was still half leaning over a chair with her jeans around her ankles.

“And you didn’t think about turning the light on for me?” Emma asked, flopping into bed in her tank top and boy shorts. The rough movements jostling Regina next to her purposefully. 

Emma felt Regina shrug next to her, offering, “Henry is sleeping.” In a somewhat playful tone.

Emma smiled scoffing at the mayor’s comment. This might have been the lightest conversation they’d ever had, and Emma sank into that feeling like it was a warm ray of sunshine. There was a long pause as Emma lay on her back in the dark room, Regina close enough to feel the heat of her body beside her bare arm and leg.

“Regina?”

“Mm.” the queen replied sleepily, shifting a bit on the mattress as she curled up on her side.

“What’s your actual favorite flower?”

Regina was quiet for a long while, long enough for Emma to wish the floor would open up and swallow her whole. It wasn’t information that mattered, beyond Henry’s wellbeing they meant nothing to each other. She wasn’t even sure why she so desperately needed the answer when she'd initially asked the question it hadn’t been important.

Still, not knowing after hours of getting nothing but honesty from Regina had left her with a hollow feeling, the question lingering in the front of her mind.

“Hyacinth.” Regina replied quietly “they used to grow in the countryside where I lived, every spring they would sprout so many the mountains would look purple.”

Emma smiled widely staring up into the darkness around them. Her heart felt warm and her body buzzed with some form of happiness she had no idea what to do with.

Another few moments passed of Emma smiling up at the darkness with her hands clasped over her stomach before Regina spoke again,

“Go to bed Emma.”


	6. Chapter 6

Sunlight filtered into the cottage in strong golden beams, illuminating the stone room where Emma was still fast asleep. The sheriff stirred, legs kicking the quilt that was already only covering her knees down to the foot of the bed, as she rolled onto her stomach completely at peace in the early morning light.

In all honesty, Emma was not entirely awake, however, she was not entirely asleep either. Her consciousness was somewhere between awake and asleep, in a limbo of soft sheets and comfortable pillow. She was aware that she was not in her own room, and yet she wasn’t exactly sure what room she was in. Her mind instead of focusing on how comfortable she was, and how good it felt to be laying where she was in that moment.

As the sheriff’s half conscience mind pondered those exact thoughts a heavy canvas bag slapped the surface of the bed she was on, shaking off the thin veil of sleep and startling her into full consciousness with a sharp intake of breath.

“We need to get moving, you’ve already slept too long.” Regina’s sharp authoritative tone pierced the warm stillness of the room.

Emma stared up at the mayor dumbly, as Regina shoved the enchanted map into her face.

“What does it say this time?”

Emma blinked a few times staring at the impressionistic vague ink drawings of what was supposedly the forest. She sat up, staring intently at the positioning of everything with a bit of confusion.

“It changed,” Emma commented, astonished. “Everything’s moved around.”

Regina sighed as if she was being greatly hindered before replying as if explaining to a young child, “Considering you can’t read it I don’t believe that is a problem.”

Emma opened her mouth, unsure how to respond to the queen’s sharp annoyed tone. They weren’t friends, by any means but for some reason, Emma thought that they’d at least come to some semblance of an understanding yesterday.

However, before Emma could decide how to react to the queen’s volatile mood, Regina moved on.

“Let’s go.” Came the impatient demand. Regina already halfway out the door with the canvas bag she’d thrown onto the bed now slung over her shoulder.

Emma rolled out of bed and pulled on her jacket quickly as she followed the queen out of the room. She was still tugging up her jeans as she entered the main room of the cottage, noting the absence of any breakfast food flying through the air.

The sheriff’s stomach growled in protest and she stopped briefly, glancing at the oak dining table.

“There’s no flying crepes today?” Emma asked with a sideways grin toward Regina. Desperately trying to lift the stifling anger Regina seemed to be intent on sending her way today.

“You missed it,” Regina commented dully, unwilling to waiver

A thing about Regina, Emma had learned very early on, was to never let it show how much something bothered you. If you didn’t give her the reaction she sought, you weren’t good prey. If you weren’t prey then you could be one of two things, you could be an enemy or an adversary. Showing Regina that she’d hurt you in some way was like blood in the water. Emma; however, remembered this lesson a few seconds too late.

Her shoulders dropped as she looked at Regina with a mixture of disappointment and betrayal. Unsure why this sudden change in the mayor’s behavior was at all surprising to her. The words ‘why didn’t you wake me’ were on the tip of her tonged but she bit them back.

Henry and Baba Yaga were nowhere to be seen and her heart sank. She hadn’t gotten to spend time with Henry before their daily scavenger hunt, and that hurt more than being denined magic breakfast.

Emma ran a hand through her hair, unwilling to give Regina the satisfaction of even mentioning Henry. She was more than aware it was on purpose but if Regina was looking to start a fight this morning, Emma refused to give her the satisfaction.

The savior glanced down at the map in her other hand, noting the new clue scrawled under the one from yesterday.

“Hollow rock shrouded in darkness, outcast shadow through ire. Retrieve with posthaste one plume of flame extinguished by the stillness of heart.” 

“Stillness of heart.” Emma repeated, her face scrunching up a bit, “What, like death?”

Regina smirked mirthlessly at her, but neither denied or confirmed that claim. Emma was pretty sure that’s not what the clue was supposed to mean, with fairytale characters everything was an overdramatic allusion to feelings, but she had grown fond of the eye rolls and little snorts of amusement Regina gave when the sheriff said something particularly stupid.

Emma wasn’t entirely sure when self-deprecation had started making her feel warm and fuzzy inside, but she did notice its absence when Regina refused to take the bait. The sheriff had even mentioned the possibility of one of them having to die and she didn’t even get a thinly veiled death threat. 

The sheriff’s posture deflated a bit more watching as Regina left the cottage without a word. Her stoic expression offering nothing as Emma begrudgingly followed her out into the garden.

“Which way.” It wasn’t a question and Emma tried to push down her irritation at the queen’s harsh tone.

Emma nodded toward the east, in the opposite direction of the garden gate. Regina didn’t acknowledge Emma’s words, instead opting to transport them out of the garden at the backside of the house.

Unlike yesterday, Regina didn’t bother to grab her hand, instead opting to grip her wrist callously. Emma felt her stomach turn inside out as she was magically transposed from one place to another without much care. The sheriff stumbled a bit as she hit the ground, unprepared for the disorienting effects of magic on her body.

She coughed to cover a gag, “You know we could have just walked to the back gate.”

Regina didn’t respond, her hands on her hips as she watched Emma try to catch her breath.

“Now what?” Regina asked, and anger settled in the pit of Emma’s stomach. She tried no to anticipate Regina’s actions but apparently the mayor was intent on making today as difficult and painful as possible.

The sheriff glanced down at the map in her hand briefly, noting the scribbled trees and the path of the river cutting through it. A glob with the words, grotto of phoenix scrawled above it catching her attention.

“That way,” Emma noted and Regina turned to face the edge of the clearing behind Baba Yaga’s cottage.

“If we follow the river there’s a cave and I’m willing to bet-“

“Hollow rock shrouded in darkness.” Regina nodded cutting Emma off mid explanation.

Emma waited a beat before she followed, her eyes glaring into Regina’s retreating form. She wasn’t sure when this behavior had become unexpected but something about Regina’s current mood was getting under her skin in an entirely different way.

It wasn’t that she thought yesterday had made them best friends, but she had mistakenly thought they’d reached some level of truce.

“Miss Swan.” Regina cautioned, her tone exasperated. “I suggest you start walking, you already slept far too long.”

Emma clenched her jaw, unwilling to give Regina the satisfaction of knowing her little digs were anything more than a nuisance, as she trudged a few feet behind Regina. Pretending to be caught up in her own task of deciphering the map despite the festering irritation in the back of her throat.

* * *

They followed the river for at least two hours in silence. Emma purposefully keeping her distance as to not give Regina an opening to bite out a snippy remark.

Emma stayed focused on her map, unwilling to ponder Regina’s current attitude problem. The last thing she wanted was to understand the Queen’s motives, all that would do was create empathy and Emma wanted to simmer.

Regina for her part hadn’t said much in the last two hours either, but her posture was rigid and tense. Emma couldn’t really see her face but somehow, she knew the mayor had that angry overwrought expression. Her lips purse and her brow furrowed. 

Suddenly Regina let out a hiss of pain and Emma’s head shot up.

“are you ok?”

“It’s a briar patch, Miss Swan, I think I’ll survive it.” Regina deadpanned swiping at the bit of blood on her bare calf.

Emma rolled her eyes, unsure why she’d even bothered asking as Regina spoke again.

“How much further?”

Emma shrugged, “I don’t know Regina there isn’t like; a big magic ‘You Are Here’ sign on it.”

Regina turned to continue walking forward with a haughty, “Unbelievable.” Muttered under her breath.

Emma clenched the map tighter in her fists.

“Oh I’m sorry would you like to try and decipher this? Oh right, you can’t even see it!”

Emma expected a fight, expected Regina to turn around and rise to the bait. After all, it was Regina who had been baiting the sheriff all day, trying to pick a fight and get in a jab since before Emma had even opened her eyes.

Instead, Regina paused for a moment, then let out an even, nearly monotoned,

“Let’s just keep going.” Before continuing forward on their non-existent path along the riverside. 

Emma was stunned, Regina had never missed a chance to tell her off. Especially if Emma raised her voice first. However, despite the on slot of barbed comments Regina seemed uninterested in fighting with her.

They carried on in silence for at least another half hour when Emma spotted a large opening in a cliff face.

Regina had done little more than a sigh, stepping directly into the shallowed stream with a tense,

“Let’s just get this over with.”

The cave was placed somewhat in the stream, and Emma wobbled on the shifting smooth pebbles. The cold Main water lapping up past her boots in freezing splashes every time she slipped.

A particularly large river stone shifted under the sheriff’s foot and she toppled to one side, catching herself with an outstretched hand on the cave wall. It was still light outside but inside the cave, it was dim and hard to see.

Emma pulled her hand off the wall noting that it was covered in dark ash. She was about to comment on it when the semi level ground she’d been on suddenly slopped heavily downward.

Emma’s hands went out to her sides and she wobbled a bit trying to catch her balance before falling backward into the shallow water with a loud splash. Ice cold water seeped through the fabric of her jeans, making her shiver. It was summer but, summer in Main didn’t exactly mean swimming. In fact, the ocean was pretty much cold enough to kill you year-round.

Regina let out a long sigh from up ahead, a ball of fire appearing in her hand and illuminating the dark cave slightly.

“Miss Swan, if you can’t manage to stay upright I don’t know what help you are to either Henry or myself right now.”

Emma felt the anger that had been simmering since this morning begin to boil over as the cold water seeped further into her clothes. The sheriff got to her feet, the cold water dripping off of her but leaving a chill.

“Regina, what is your problem?” Emma asked, her voice rising. The overwhelming need to shove Regina down into the cold stream and see how much she liked it.

Suddenly, the cave becomes much brighter than Regina’s fireball had made it, every crevice illuminated in a warm orange glow. Emma blinked dumbly her gaze shifting from glaring at Regina to the giant firebird lighting the cave with the flickering flames of its body.

The bird let out a loud screech that echoed of the walls of the caves in an ear-splitting octave that made both women wince. The bird let loose a second cry as it took off in the cave, fire licking at the already ash-covered stone walls.

Emma’s hand went instinctively to Regina’s arm pulling her down into the cold water as the bird flew overhead, hot enough for them to feel the heat of the flames.

“Grotto of Phoenix,” Emma repeated as realization dawned on her.

“What?” Regina questioned, she was now sitting, toppled over in the cold stream. The thin silk of the queen’s shorts clinging to her upper thighs.

“On the map, the cave had a name; it said grotto of phoenix above it.”

Regina’s face darkened considerably as she regarded Emma as if she might actually be truly stupid.

“And you didn’t think to mention that?” Came the queen’s incredulous reply.

Emma raised her hands above her head, water from her fingers splashing them both. “I figured it was just a dramatic fairytale name.”

“God! You are so dense I-” Regina growled as the bird flying irradicably overhead let loose a loud shriek, the amount of fire coming off its feathers doubling. 

They both ducked, down in the cold water feeling the heat of fire fly over them. Emma instinctively reached out toward Regina as the bird flew past them and out the mouth of the cave.

“For the record us _fairytale character’s_ name things like ‘grotto of phoenix’ for a reason.” Regina ground out getting to her feet in the water to follow the bird out of the cave.

Emma sighed, water sloshing as she moved to stand and followed Regina.

Outside the cave, Regina was standing in the middle of the stream as a giant flaming bird set the forest on fire. Panic flooded Emma’s entire system as enormous trees began to catch fire and spread hundreds of feet above them. The crackling of wood on fire so loud in Emma’s ears it sounded like gunfire.

“Plume of flame,” Regina yelled over the sound of hundreds of burning trees.

“Great.” She commented, watching as the bird continued to set fire to the forest surrounding them.

“What did it say about extinguishing it?” Regina turned back toward Emma, the ends of her hair damp and curling from being pushed down into the water.

Emma’s eyes widened, her hands going to her back pocket where the map was now undoubtedly sodden. The sheriff pulled out the folded parchment to find it all but falling apart, the ink washed away.

Regina growled but didn’t comment on Emma’s obvious misstep. The queen’s eyes tracking the bird as it flew overhead, the sky alight with red hot fire.

“Ire?”

Emma’s eyes also went to the bird, watching it soar in circles. The flame of its wings flickering wildly in the opened air trailing behind it.”

“No.” Emma shook her head, thinking of how badly she’s wanted to push Regina into the water back in that cave. “That ignites it.”

Regina nodded absently, seeming to draw the same conclusion. “So the opposite of anger then.” 

There was a pause and Emma absently wondered if the opposite of ire was love and if the opposite of wanting to push Regina was to try and hug her.

Then suddenly Regina turned toward her, a stern unreadable expression on her face as she abruptly declared,

“I don’t think you’re _that_ dense.” In a tone that sounded just as harsh as it did when Regina was angry.

“You aren’t ugly.” Regina added, “Sometimes you do an ok job with Henry.”

Emma smirked, reveling in this after all of the comments she’d endured today.

“I don’t-“ Regina paused as she noticed the smile on Emma’s face and gave her a look of contempt.

“Miss Swan, stop enjoying this!” Regina growled angrily, and the bird overhead let out a shrill call. The fire re-doubling across its body as it dove through the trees.

A flaming tree limb cracked off from a tall fir tree, falling into the stream with a hiss. The ash and water splashing them both across the face.

“Help me.” Regina demanded, “I’m trying.”

Emma’s gaze refocused on the mayor, who’s face was now stained with dark soot. Her eyes wide with panic as another limb crashed down at the water’s edge and set fire to the dry brush. Fire spread quickly over the brush-covered ground. The flames licking at the tree trunks as the tops began to break and topple over, spreading the fire further.

“Ok, um.” Emma paused, “I’m sorry.”

“For what, you didn’t do anything!” Regina yelled and the bird swooped low over the tall grass in the distance effectively setting it alight.

“I don’t know, but you’ve been mad at me all day so whatever it is, I didn’t mean it.”

Regina sighed “Why do you even care?”

Emma threw up her hands, “I don’t know!”

The bird let out a shrill call, and Emma didn’t even bother to look at it. She was more than aware that something else was on fire now.

“That’s not the point.” Emma reasoned her eyes fixing on Regina and trying to find something superficial to compliment her on.

“You’re pretty, and your hair is really shinny.” Emma commented, “And you’re a good mother- I’m sorry I ever had the nerve to doubt that.”

Emma’s stomach flipped, that was too deep. There were certain things they were just supposed to breeze past. It was easier to just focus on what was happening now, instead of everything they’d already gotten wrong.

Regina’s form relaxed a bit, her muscles less tense for the first time all day.

“You are.” The mayor paused, “Occasionally,”

There was another pause, and Emma watched her with curiosity. They’d never done anything like this.

“More bearable then I have led you to believe.”

Emma snorted, “Gee, thanks.”

Regina’s eyes flashed, her hands curling into fists at her sides, “This isn’t easy for me, Miss Swan!”

The bird; which had landed on a burning tree branch, took off into the sky at the harsh sound of Regina’s voice. Fire was now falling from the treetops, and Emma realized there was a very real possibility they could set the whole town ablaze.

“Regina, calm down.”

The mayor scoffed, obviously about to say something sarcastic before she seemed to think better of it. Her hands in front of her middle as she took a deep breath.

“Ok.” There was a long pause before the queen added quietly, “You’re right.”

Emma nodded but didn’t say anything for a long moment, not wanting to piss either of them off as the giant bird settled on a tree limb nearby.

“I’m trying to do better,” Regina admitted, and Emma nodded unsure what exactly that meant.

“For Henry.” The queen added, ringing her fingers absently.

There was another pause, fire crackling as it burned through the live trees all around them. The stream they were still standing in rushing passed and occasionally lapped up to further soak Emma’s pants.

“Me too.” The sheriff conceded with an empathetic nod. 

They stared at each other for a moment and Emma felt something in her perspective of the Mayor shift. Regina glanced up at the bird and Emma followed her gaze. It was still on fire, but the flames were less all-consuming. Neither of them spoke, afraid to undo the tentative peace between them.

Suddenly, the bird took flight. Its large wings fanning the flames within the trees as it went. The two of them jerking out of the way as the bird glided effortlessly toward the cave’s mouth. A single feather, still alight with fire floating aimlessly down into the stream. The fire snuffed immediately out by the cold running water.

Regina snatched it eagerly out of the water as it floated downstream. Emma glanced up at the trees unsure what to do about the forest fire they’d created, as thunder clapped loudly. Storm clouds rolling in as rain began to pour heavily. All traces of fire quickly dowsed out by heavy rain.

Regina held out her free hand, iridescent red feather clutched tightly in the other. Emma regarded her for a moment before taking the offered hand, bracing herself for the lurch of Regina’s magic pulling them from one place and dropping them in another.

Emma let out the breath she was holding, as she felt the effects of Regina’s magic ebb away. Her eyes cracking opened to find them standing in Baba Yaga’s garden. The sun setting behind Regina and engulfing them both in a warm pink hue.

“Here.” Regina commented lightly, handing over the feather as they walked together toward the cottage door. “You deal with the witch, I demand a shower.”

Emma took the feather carefully. Her heart in her throat as she pinched the stem of the feather in her thumb and four finger tighter than necessary.

“It’s not even dark out.” Emma commented, a stark contrast to the pitch-black it had been when they’d returned yesterday. “I think we're getting good at this.”

Regina snorted “Or we're being lulled into a sense of safety before our ultimate demise.”

Emma made her way over to the apothecary cabinet and plucked a vile from the shelf to shove the feather into.

“Or that.” Emma conceded with a shrug, as she turned to see Regina pulling Henry from his wooden bassinet with a warm loving smile.

Henry cooed happily, his little hands reaching out to take hold of Regina’s hair. The queen smiled placing her finger in his palm as she shook her head. Telling him she’d learned not to let him do that a long time ago, before kissing his chubby little cheek.

Emma couldn’t help the warmth that spread through her, watching Regina soothe and comfort Henry. When she’d given him up twelve years ago, she had always pictured this. A nice home, with the kind of devoted parents that she’d never had.

There had been more than a few nights in the years after giving him up, where she’d found her way to the bottom of one too many bottles. Tears and emotions welling up as her thoughts turned to the child she’d carried for nine months but never been allowed to hold.

It was in those moments that she would picture this exact thing and convince herself that even though she knew exactly how the adoption and foster systems worked. That somewhere somehow a miracle had occurred and the baby she’d made in the back seat of a Volkswagen had gotten a family that doubted on him. That loved him unconditionally and would do anything and everything for his happiness.

Seeing Regina, so wrapped up in caring for Henry that she hadn’t even noticed Emma watching just solidified every single one of those wistful desperate hopes. It was a glimpse into how Regina had been with him as a baby, and she felt a sort of gratefulness and affection toward the other woman she didn’t know how to describe. Let alone begin to repay.

Emma cleared her throat awkwardly, “Isn’t there supposed to be a witch here somewhere?”

“She’s nearby.” Regina answered, her attention still solely focused on Henry. “I can still feel her magic. I imagine we're being given alone time.”

The savior swallowed hard as her eye’s traversed the outline of Regina’s body without her input.

“alone time.” Emma repeated throatily, heart racing in a way she wished she could stop.

The Queen nodded as she walked toward Emma, with Henry in her arms. “Here.”

Emma took Henry awkwardly from the mayor’s arms. She’d never really been around babies. Even when she’d given birth to Henry, he’d been taken before she’d even been able to see his face clearly.

“I’ve never held him before.” Emma commented, mostly to herself as she looked down at his little face. A large box of compartmentalized stuff spilling opened in her mind as Henry stared up at her with unfocused, curious brown eyes.

A soft click signifying that Regina had gone into what passed for a bathroom in a cottage with no plumbing. Leaving Emma alone with Henry in her arms.

* * *

By the time Regina returned from a much-needed bath, smelling of sweet flowers, her hair damp and curling up, Henry was asleep. Emma was still holding him as she sat cross-legged on the bed, softly staring at him in awe. 

“I used to do that a lot,” Regina admitted quietly, “When I first adopted him, I just…” She paused, running her fingers through glistening dark hair before shrugging. “Watched him.”

Another pause, then, “I guess I figured that if he was sleeping peacefully, everything must be okay.”

Emma nodded silently, trying with all of her might to pretend that keeping her eyes on Henry alone was as effortless now as it was before Regina walked in wearing only a towel.

“You should clean up.” Regina commented, and took a breath before artificially injecting her voice with a degree of levity it was unaccustomed to, “You smell like a forest fire, and you look like hell.” A wry smile towards Emma, hoping she understood that it was meant in jest.

The savior nodded, unsure what to make of Regina’s sudden shift in temperament. Handing Henry off with her eyes cast down, avoiding the very real, very close proximity of Regina in a towel.

“Regina.” Emma paused, unsure what she actually wanted to ask. Even more unsure if she wanted an actual answer.

“today, was.”

“Shitty.” The mayor interjected and Emma’s eyes flicked to catch a glimpse of bare shoulder before meeting her eyes.

Emma nodded, a jovial smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she searched Regina’s face. The hard lines from this morning all but vanished, as she rocked Henry absently.

“When we wake up tomorrow, are you going to hate me again?”

Regina snorted, her breath brushing lightly against the side of Emma’s jaw. The two of them leaning close enough that Emma could feel the soft fabric of Henry’s blanket against her bare arm.

“I don’t hate you, Miss Swan. You’d know if I hated you.”

Emma frowned a bit at that but didn’t comment on it. Until this exact moment, she had been more than a little sure that Regina, at the very least, generally loathed her entire existence.

“Then why-“

Henry let out a loud fussing sound, and the two of them nearly jumped apart. Regina soothing Henry back to sleep as Emma watched, now standing on the opposite side of the bed.

They’d been too close, the sheriff decided. So close they’d nearly crushed Henry.

“I’m going to go.” She paused, her voice sounding wobbly and unsure; faltering entirely as Regina’s attention shifted from Henry to her.

“Bath.” Emma clarified, suddenly unsure how to string an actual sentence together.

Regina nodded walking Henry to his bassinet.

“Don’t be too long,” Regina commented as soon as Emma reached the door,

“Wouldn’t want you to oversleep again,” Regina smirked, and Emma smiled back noting the sparkle of mischief in the mayor’s eyes.

Were they joking? Could they do that now?

* * *

When Emma returned from her bath a single candle was still burning, and Emma smiled. The quiet sounds of Henry’s tiny snores and Regina even breaths filling the room as she made her way around the bed.

While in the bathroom she’d found a pair of clean pajamas sitting on a chair. Most likely Baba Yaga’s doing. She tossed the towel she was using to dry her hair near the corner on the floor.

Under the light of one single flickering candle, she couldn’t make out much of anything. However, as Emma moved to crawl into bed, she noted the very solid outline of a down feather pillow, firmly placed between Regina’s sleeping form and Emma’s side of the bed.


	7. Chapter 7

Pots and pans were clanging around in the next room. The district sound of a wooden spoon stirring something in a copper pot while flying six feet overhead filling Emma’s half-asleep brain.

The savior twitched, failing to will herself awake as her sleep shrouded mind slogged to catch up to her ears, and more importantly her stomach. Neither of them had bothered with food last night, opting instead to fall right into bed. Exhausted after the day they’d had. 

Regina let out a little grunt in her sleep, and Emma smiled absently. The edges of reality beginning to edge into her conciseness. Feeling returning to her limbs as she realized that her face was pressed rather firmly into something oddly warm and solid for a pillow. 

  
She shifted a bit, one of her arms tucked into her chest while the other was flung out, her hand clasped around what she assumed to be a portion of linen sheet. Probably in an attempt to keep the blankets on herself throughout the night. 

Regina had made it quite clear from their first night in the cottage that she was a prolific blanket thief. 

The queen shifted, a fitful murmur leaking out of her as she burrowed further into the bed. Unwilling to wake up until she had no other choice. 

Emma’s eyes popped open, feeling the Regina wriggle under the savior’s arm. The linen fabric in her grasp pulled a bit in the savior's closed fist before ridding up higher, Emma’s wrist and part of her arm making contact with the mayor’s bare stomach. Her entire back molded against Emma’s front, the pillow that had been placed between them lying on the floor.

Before Emma even has time to fully process their position, she’d detangled herself from being wound around Regina. Regina shifted a bit but otherwise didn’t seem to notice, as Emma stood next to the bed with her heart in her throat.

She wasn’t even sure they’d ever shook hands. Until this week the only time Emma had ever touched the mayor was when she’d punched her in the jaw. 

Though, it wasn’t entirely unpleasant having Regina pressed against her, the feeling of being incinerated, had the mayor woken up was decidedly less pleasant. 

“Why are you just standing there?” Regina rasped, her eyes still closed.

A cold wave of panic washed over Emma as she searched the room for a reason to be standing next to the bed for a prolonged period of time. Her eyes finally settling on Henry’s bassinet against the wall behind her.

“Trying to decide if I should wake Henry before breakfast. You know how fussy his Highness gets when we wake him before he’s ready.”

Regina smiled as she opened her eyes and shifted onto her side facing Emma. There was something nearing fondness in her expression, although Emma was sure it was for Henry. It was a long way from the death threats and pure hatred of last year or the false politeness from the last several months.

It was weird but for a second it almost felt normal, like a family. Although Emma had nothing to compare that to, and she found it very unlikely Regina; with her sharp edges and mean streak, came from a very loving home life either.

“He’s still like that at eleven honestly, I always thought he’d grow out of it, but he still gets an attitude when I wake him up for school,” Regina commented lightly, as she sat up.

Emma snorted “I know, two weeks ago I tried to get him up so we could go to the Saturday market and he gave me a death glare worse than yours.”

There was a moment, the two of them smiling fondly at each other as they thought of Henry before Regina took in a deep breath. Her gaze focusing on the quilt spread over the bed.

“You should eat.” The queen commented softly, “I’ll be there in a moment.”

Emma nodded, more than aware that Regina was asking for a moment to herself. For some reason, getting along felt almost, unsettling. Like staring over the precipice of a very large cliff and knowing that if you slipped there would be no way to recover. 

For this reason and a few jumbled confusing others, Emma found herself entirely unable to make a large plate of breakfast foods. Instead, opting to grab the new map and a single biscuit from the expansive spread on her way out the door. 

Emma wasn’t sure why, but she settled near the edge of the river running a few feet away from the garden gate. Her gaze unfocused as she stared into the clear water, at the stone’s underneath. Letting the sound of rushing water drown out ever thought before it could even bubble to the surface. She couldn’t say how long she stared into the river, but it was long enough for Regina to find her squatting on the bank with her arms pulled tightly around herself.

“Are you alright?” Regina questioned softly from somewhere behind her.

Emma winced, for some indiscernible reason the sheriff would have preferred the harsh clipped tone of the mayor.

“I’m just.” She paused, unsure what exactly was making her unnerved. 

They were being civil, something they had agreed to be for Henry’s sake several months prior to their current predicament. However, civility had never been this soft, had never made Emma’s heart go fuzzy or her face grow hot. 

Two weeks ago, they were lucky to get out of a conversation without the looming threat of physical violence and suddenly Emma felt soft fondness growing over the cold hard disdain she’d been holding onto.

Was that really all it took? A few words in a softer tone, a smile with nothing behind it? Was she truly that desperate to wedge her way into this family?

Suddenly, Regina was down at eye level, her face close enough for Emma to see the reddish tones in her dark eyes. The way the early morning sun filtered through the trees and made her look more perfect than should be possible.

Without her input, Emma’s gaze flitted from Regina’s eyes to trace her jawline before settling on her lips. Vaguely aware that the thin robe and silk pajamas had been replaced by a white sweater and jeans.

“Where did you get new clothes?”

Regina smirked, mischief returning to her gaze as she replied vaguely.

“You’d know where if you hadn’t run out of the house as you did.” 

Emma smiled woodenly as Regina moved to stand, nudging Emma lightly.

“Now let’s go kill a goblin made of our indecision, or whatever nonsense this old bitch has cooked up.”

Emma snorted, unsure if she’d ever heard Regina speak so casually. Her slightly asleep legs feeling wobbly and useless under her as she stood up next to Regina on the river bank. The map in her hands showing a completely new part of the woods beyond where they’d been before. Something in the pit of Emma’s stomach making her a bit reluctant to even begin.   
Still, she nodded to the west. Following Regina past the edge of the clearing and into the dense forest.

* * *

“Why do I get the feeling.” Emma began as she tried to push her way through the wild underbrush of briars and vines. Hissing a bit as one caught her thigh and poked through the thread of her jeans. 

“That this is going to be way worse than the forest fire or the truth tea.”

Regina let out a short laugh, as she worked her way through a different maze of thick thorn laden vines.

“Because this is the boss level.”

Emma paused, a bit taken off guard by that response.

“What?” Regina responded, giving Emma a brief look over her shoulder as she continued through the thickets “I have an eleven-year-old son, I know a thing or two about video games and comic book characters.”

Emma smiled at that, she wasn’t sure she had ever really pictured Regina spending time with Henry like that. All Emma had ever heard them talk about was school, and chores and boring stuff. She never considered they may do other things when she wasn’t there.

“Do you.” Emma paused, unable to keep her mind from flooding with images of the mayor, with her pantsuits and Louboutin heels holding a PlayStation controller. “Play with him?” 

Regina scoffed “of course I do.”

Suddenly Regina’s hand shot out and Emma halted all movement. The underbrush they had been walking through suddenly parting to reveal a set of wooden stairs seemingly placed into the earth, leading down.   
The brambles and vines growing along the banisters and making it nearly impossible to hold onto anything. 

“That’s creepy,” Emma commented, looking at the steep wooden steps, wood weathered and uneven. 

Regina nodded but moved to go down them anyway, Emma right behind her.

It took a while, the gnarled uneven stairs creaking as they worked to keep balance on the steep shifting steps. The further they got the fewer briars covered the banisters and edges of the stairs, but that was probably only because less than halfway down the railing disappeared into the dense earth walls encasing the narrow stairs on either side.

The air was rapidly becoming damp and filled with the smell of dirt. The air growing colder than it had been at the top, and Emma had the strangest idea that this was exactly what it would have felt like to be slowly buried alive.

The dirt gave way to solid rock, moss growing over the sides as water trickled down on to the staircase. Several pools of it puddling on various stairs and spilling from one to the next. By the time they reached the bottom of the staircase the light above was a barely-there slit of filtered light, patches of it shining through the trees but otherwise dark and shadowed. The cliff face rising far above them on either side creating a narrow ominous hallway. 

Emma fished a small black torch from her pocket illuminating as much as she could of the narrow walkway. The path seemed to cut forward for a few feet and then stop.

The sheriff shined her flashlight onto the immovable rock in front of them unsure what to do next.

“If I’m being honest.” Regina sighed, brushing past her in the narrow space. The mayor’s hand lingering on Emma’s shoulder as she stepped in front. “I’m getting really tired of these little games.”

  
Emma smiled unsteadily, too much of her focus still on the warmth Regina’s hand had left on her shoulder. A bit of panic tugging at her heart as she watched Regina saunter ahead. Somehow managing to look expensive and posh in jeans, like one of the models in a high-end hiking gear ad.

It wasn’t until the mayor twirled back around to face her to Emma noticed her gaze, and the light of her flashlight had been entirely focused on Regina’s ass.

She jerked, redirecting the light a bit.

“Bring that here, there’s a dip in the wall.”

Emma dutifully moved forward a few feet and pointed the light toward the left cliff face, where a wooden door was nestled into the stone. The door frame and crown modeling a stark contrast to the cold rough stone around it.

It looked like any other front door, painted a nice red, with a golden knocker and a peephole. Emma shifted on her feet, both of them staring at the door with perplexity.

“I don’t know what I expected,” Regina commented, not bothering to finish that thought as Emma gave a nod.

They stood there staring for a few more silent moments before Emma shifted again.

“Should we.” She paused turning toward Regina a bit “I dunno knock?” 

“I don’t think so,” Regina replied reaching out for the shiny gold doorknob. Emma grabbed her wrist before she could turn it.

“What if you open that and a giant monster comes out.”

“Well then, at the very least I didn’t knock to let it know I was coming.” 

Emma rolled her eyes letting her hand fall to her side, suddenly just a bit more ok with Regina getting eaten by whatever was on the other side of the door. As Regina conjured a fireball in her free hand, her eyes meeting Emma’s with a raised brow.

The sheriff nodded, pulling her gun from its holster and removing the safety.

“Count of three?” Emma questioned shifting her stance to be a bit more defensive. One hand outstretched, with the gun trained on the door, finger already on the trigger. 

Regina nodded curtly, as she moved to one side. Ready to push the door opened and face whatever demon the old witch had put in there for them to find, without getting immediately mauled. 

Emma began counting evenly, slowly, as she tried to ignore the sweaty clammy feeling of her hands wrapped around the guns handle. She’d been the sheriff for close to a whole year, but nothing much had happened. Storybrooke was a sleepy town, the most exciting thing that had happened since the curse broke was too much snow causing a few light posts to come down. Witches and magic were a thing she’d had to come to terms with, but firebirds and whatever lay behind that door was beyond her.

Emma’s mind filled with all kinds of horrible creatures with giant mouths and pointy claws. She thought about the dragon she’d fought and the armor plating of its scales and hoped this thing didn’t have any of that.

“Three!”

Regina threw open the door, the two of them stepping forward with weapons drawn, only to find a small sparsely decorated room. A tufted green chair sat a bit away from them, a table and lamp beside that, and a cross-stitch of a few wildflowers hung on the stone wall.

Emma lowered her gun a bit, moving her finger off the trigger. Regina didn’t even flinch, the suspicion radiating off her in waves. Every ounce of her focused on the chair turned away from them with the kind of practiced wariness that comes with years of misplaced trust. 

Something moved near the chair, the lamplight flickering a bit and Emma leveled her gun at the chair with renewed caution. 

The figured leaned forward and Emma’s finger curled over the trigger as it moved quickly to stand and come toward them.

Emma’s heart leaped into her throat and she heard the second the fire in Regina’s hand snuffed out a second before she dropped her aim toward the ground. 

“Moms!”

Emma didn’t think as she re-holstered the gun, she was already moving toward Henry. Her heartbeat pounding in her ears as she looked at him, wearing the same pale blue t-shirt she’d last seen him in before any of this had happened. 

Their eleven-year-old, his slightly too long brown hair hanging in his face as it had all summer because; ‘it cooler this way moms’. 

“Henry”

His name caught in her throat, sounding wispy and broken as she looked at him with wide desperate eyes. They had been so sure, so sure that the baby left in his place earlier this week had been Henry. So naïve to go along with everything that old witch had told them as if she wasn’t some infamous evil even Regina seemed warry of. 

Emma stepped forward, her hand already outstretched to meet his as Regina jerked toward her.

“No, Emma don't –“ 

The entire world seemed to summersault around the spot where Emma had been standing. It was ten times worse than any magic Regina had ever inflicted on her and beyond disorienting. When she opened her eyes again Regina was staring at her with a watery sort of panic, her mouth slightly opened. Henry was next to her now, his head slightly downcast as he looked at her through the overgrown fringe of his hair.  
Except half a second ago she had been standing next to Regina and Henry had been facing them. Her head turned to the side taking in the room Henry had been in only a few moments before. The green chair and low lamp light suddenly seeming a lot more ominous than before. She tried to move forward, to step over the threshold of the room and replace herself next to her family but it was like hitting a solid wall.

Her hand went out to touch the thin air between the doorframe and slapped into it as if a giant steel slate was standing between her and the hallway.

“It’s a trap mom.” Henry informed calmly “the witch enchanted the room so only one person can go in or come out. When we touched it must have switched our places.”

Emma tried to appear calm, but something about being trapped in a little room with no way out began pulling bad memories to the front of her mind. Like dredging a lake for trash or dead bodies, the calm waters of her mind suddenly disturbed by an abundance of things she left there to sink and decay below the surface. She barely registered the composed even tone Henry had kept through his whole explanation to them, his hand slipping into Regina’s.

  
Regina held up her free hand to touch tentatively at the barrier with her magic. The air between the door seemed to hum like a high-pitched tuning fork being struck and vibrating. 

Henry tugged at Regina’s hand in his pulling her back from the door a few inches. Instinctively Emma felt herself move forward, unwilling to be stuck here without them.

  
“Mom, I’m sorry.” Henry commented, “I should have never listened to that witch, I shouldn’t have forced you to be with her.”

Regina locked eyes with her for a moment blinking slowly as Henry leaned into Regina’s side. His hair still in his face as he leaned his head against her side.

“She told me she could make us a family, but we already are.” He paused wrapping his arms around Regina’s waist “I already have a mom. I’m sorry I didn’t trust you, I’m sorry I ran away, and I’m sorry I ever brought her here.”

Emma’s entire body went cold, panic rising in her throat and making it hard to take a deep breath. She had lived this so many times, having a family for a few months; maybe even a year, only to be tossed back when she was no longer of use. The town was safe; the curse broken, what use was she to anyone. Especially to Henry, who’d already won the mom lottery with Regina.

Henry tugged at Regina again letting out a dejected, “Mom I wanna go home.”

Emma felt several words swim to the surface of her mind, pleading desperate words that all amalgamated to just not be left here. However, they all died in her throat, the sheriff unable to voice them at all as Regina’s gaze seemed to settle to the side of the door frame. Regina nodded woodenly, her arm going around Henry to lead him away and Emma jerked forward.

Her hand, hip, and thigh colliding with the barrier hard as she tried to push against it. Her eyes a bit wild, and tears rising to the surface as she watched Henry duck out of Regina’s soft grasp to stand at the door.

Emma felt a whole range of emotions as Henry moved closer to her, a hand shooting out toward him as hope flitted about in her chest. Followed by a soul-crushing ache when he grabbed the edged of the opened door and began pushing it closed on her.

“It’s better this way.” He murmured as the door clicked shut, leaving Emma alone in a dimly lit room carved in stone. 

* * *

Regina led Henry away from the door with a warm hand on his upper back. The way she had steered him his whole life, her eyes unseeing as she led him toward the top of the staircase.  


“I’m glad it can just be us again.” Henry confided happily as if they hadn’t just left Emma to rot several feet below the ground.

Regina squeezed his shoulder in a way she hoped came across as reassuring but didn’t respond. A kind of dread she hadn’t felt in a long time tugging at her insides. 

“She just.” Henry paused as they reached the top of the stairs, turning to face her. His hair still covering most of his face as he looked up at her through bangs that completely covered his eyes with a flippant shrug, “Didn’t fit.”

Regina nodded, suddenly very worried that some of these words were being pulled from her subconscious. Things that she had said and thought in the months following Emma’s arrival and complete upheaval of their lives. Things she didn’t think Henry had even heard as she’d ranted and forbid him to spend time with her. It didn’t feel good, and the cold pinch in her heart spread at the idea of Henry holding on to anything she’s said in anger in the last year; about Emma or otherwise, making her uncomfortable. 

She smiled at him and Henry smiled back, something hollow in both of their expressions before Regina placed a hand on either of his shoulders. 

“Have I ever told you about the year I spent learning potions with Rumble?”

His smile faltered a bit, twitching at the corners as he seemingly thought back over the years before shaking his head.

Regina smiled; she knew that already. She had purposefully shared very little about her life before Storybrooke. Had worked very hard to keep Henry away from magic and anything about it for most of his life. 

  
The first time he’d ever really gotten in trouble had been when she’d caught him with a complete set of Harry Potter books from the library under his bed. 

“Oh god, it was awful.” She confided with a rueful smile, “he sent me to all matter of locations to retrieve things for potions. Even when he already had plenty on hand.” 

“And a lot of ingredients for spells are near impossible to retrieve; especially for a young inexperienced girl.” She smiled a bit thinking about the several newts she had profusely apologized to in the first year of her training. 

“I didn’t understand then, but those sorts of things stick with you- especially the hard ones- they’re experienced so if they ever happen again- you’ll know what to do.”

Henry didn’t react, obviously completely unsure where she was going with this but unwilling to ask.

“Magic.” She paused taking her hands off his shoulders, “Is something I’m very experienced in; Rumple made sure of that, but in the last eleven years there is something else I have become very experienced in.”

Her eyes traversed the boy's small frame with a calculated unreadable expression. He watched her, openly and without trepidation and she nodded; mostly to herself before lurching quickly toward him and locking him in a firm grip.

“My son.” She confided in a low growl as he struggled and squirmed in her arms. Trying desperately to free himself. 

“Henry is good, and he is kind, and he would never; ever, suggest we leave Emma down there.”

The boy stopped struggling, his smile too wide and unsettling as he looked at her through dark brown hair,

“But you thought it.” He cackled, “Just for a moment but I heard it. You wanted to leave her- because it was easier. Easier than sharing Henry, easier than all the compromises and constant bickering.”

He smirked “Easier than the feelings you’re starting to have for her.”

She nearly let go of him at that, but she retightened her grip before he could slip away pushing the hair out of his face to reveal dark eyes. Absent of anything, just two voids that unsettled her when attached to Henry’s sweet face, now contorted by a malicious barring of teeth.

“Henry is good, he’s kind and he’s a better person than I’ll ever be- but he makes me want to try.” She admitted as the evil little creature’s disguise began to fade in patches. Its pail luminous complexion burning in the patchy daylight without any allusion to hid behind.

“He’ll never forgive you.” the creature trilled, it’s voice that had once sounded like Henry’s becoming mangled with its own harsh screech. “and she’ll never want you- neither of them will.”

* * *

Emma through her fist into the barrier again. The harsh high pitched tone of the magic keeping her locked in the room reverberating off the walls as she punched over and over. 

Without the light from the opened door, it was very dark, too dark to make out anything around her, and panic washed over her like a tidal wave; stealing the breath from her lungs and the ground from under her feet. 

This wasn’t the first time she’d been locked in a dark room by people she’d called family. She’d once been locked in a closet for several hours by a couple of foster brothers charged with looking out for her while their foster mother had been out. 

It wasn’t something she liked to think about, but it was one of the things that made Mary Margret’s loft so comforting, no doors. Light from the streetlamp on the corner fliting in and keeping the room an orange sort of half-lit, even in the darkest parts of the night. 

She was entirely unaware, as she sank to the dirt floor, that her knuckles were bleeding from trying to fight the magic keeping her in this little room. The thrumming pain completely unregistered as she tried to catch her breath. She imagined Mary Margret and David coming to her rescue but was unable to picture them doing so.

Henry was right, everything fit together much better without out her. Nearly sixty potential families couldn’t be wrong about that. It was just statistics, and she’d been stupid enough to get comfortable here. To settle and unpack, to trust. To trust Regina of all people.

Her face flushed and hot tears ran unencumbered down her face. Regina, with her tiny silk shorts and her mayoral pantsuits. Impossibly pretty and so broken that she’d let herself believe that they could fit together. Like mosaic tiles that had once been pretty and new broken and better together.

She remembered the last time she’s believed that she’d ended up pregnant and in jail. At least Regina had the decency to lock her up, without taking her virginity in the backseat of a Volkswagen off root 102. 

Then, all at once, her precarious placement with her side against the magic barrier, her knees cradled to her chest was unraveled. As her body was pushed sideways out of the dark room. Mud splattering across her face as she blinked in the light, her face still tear-stained and red as she rolled onto her back to look up at Regina standing over her.

The queen inclined her head toward the little room, “It’s a Marra; They feed on nightmares and fear.”

Emma nodded but didn’t process the words as she glanced up at the barrier, where a crumpled little creature was now lying prone. She was vaguely aware that Regina seemed to be out of breath as she stood over Emma watching the Marra as if it might pounce at any moment.

“What did the map say we needed?”

There was a pause before the words fully registered, as Emma took in the queen's vague dishevelment. The scratch of what appeared to be fingernails red and angry across one of her cheeks. The sheriff’s hands sprang to life patting herself down for the map Baba Yaga had laid out for her that morning.

She looked at it for far longer than necessary, the brassy roar of panic still loud in her ears and making it hard to focus. She tried to make sense of the map, but no words of substance came to mind.

Regina sighed, but it wasn’t impatient in that suffering way she usually signed at Emma’s mental fumbles. She crouched down behind Emma, the heat of her body close enough for Emma to feel against her back, in her half-up position on the ground. 

That did absolutely nothing to focus the inner workings of Emma’s mind on the map. 

The sheriff read Baba Yaga’s words over and over again to herself, wondering why this woman couldn’t string a full sentence together to save her life. Her eyes lifted to the little room, eyeing the cross stitch on the wall before re-reading the instructions a few more times.

“I-” her voice cracked a bit, still thick with tears. The sheriff cleared her throat and tried again. “I think she wants the cross-stitch.”

* * *

“Why can’t you trade places with it and then _I’ll_ let _you_ out.” Emma hedged, wringing her hands, and not even bothering to hide it. 

Regina took in a large even breath. They’d been going in circles like this for at least a half-hour. Long enough for Regina to perch herself on a piece of the cliff face that jutted out like a little throne. One leg crossed over the other and her chin resting on her hand. 

“Because if the marra wakes up, you don’t have any way to defend against it- I do.”

Emma nodded distractedly; she knew that already. But the thought of going back across the barrier and trusting Regina to let her back at as soon as possible made her stomach churn.

It wasn’t that she thought Regina would leave her; again, but there was something about that room that made everything she’d ever compartmentalized about her life come surging to the surface. 

“This isn’t ideal.” Regina conceded, eyeing the crumpled creature beyond the barrier with disdain. “but it’s for Henry.”

There was a pause, and Emma eyed the Marra warily. Its body still half cloaked in Henry’s appearance; mentally steeling herself.

“I touch the thing, we swap, and I grab the stupid thingy off the wall,” Emma said, mostly to herself. 

She didn’t have to turn around to know Regina had nodded anyway. For some reason, she struggled with the rhetorical. Which was amusing, considering the amount of time the mayor spent talking to herself out loud. 

Emma sighed, she hated everything about this, “And then you let me out. As soon as I have the thing.”

Regina nodded again, and Emma glanced over her shoulder just to make sure. 

There was another pause and Emma shifted on her feet a few times. Preparing herself as if she was about to run a marathon.

“Regina, you better be ready to toss that thing back in because.” She trailed off and suddenly Regina was right behind her a hand on her arm.

“I promise I won’t let you be in there longer than you have to be.”

Emma closed her eyes, more out of compulsion than anything else. Not wanting to see the moment she stepped off the precipice and let herself fall. Trusting Regina, of all people, to catch her.

She knew the moment it happened, the flip of her stomach and the disorienting feeling of foreign magic making her hair stand on end. 

The sheriff opened her eyes and looked at Regina on the other side of the barrier. The Marra still collapsed and unconscious, but the queen had a firm grip on it anyway as she gave Emma a reassuring nod. 

Despite Emma’s earlier plan to run across the room, she found her body was unwilling to cooperate. Her muscles seizing in the small dark enclosure as she shuffled warily toward the cross-stitch on the far wall. 

  
Seconds seemed to slow, panic rising like a roar in Emma’s ears that drowned out everything else as she inched toward the far wall and plucked the cross-stitch hanging in place.

Emma clutched it tightly. Her fingers pushing into the taught fabric as if at any point the thing would grow wings and fly away from her. 

“Regina.” The sheriff swallowed hard, she could feel the buzzing of the barrier’s forcefield against her back. Panic making her voice a bit shaky as she remembered the feeling of being trapped in this room a few moments ago. Of being trapped in a hall closet as a child. Of being trapped in prison as a teenager.

“Regina, you better be ready to toss that thing because-“ Emma didn’t get to finish that thought as she was thrust out of the stone room and onto her back in the muddy cavern.

“Because what?” Regina questioned, leaning over a bit to gaze down at Emma, still laying on her back in the cold mud. 

The queen scoffed offering her hand, “I’m not the one who inched across that room like it was full of explosives.”

Emma took it warily, her other hand clutching the cross-stitch like it was keeping her alive, as Regina’s magic smoothed over her body like a silk sheet transporting them smoothly back to the cottage.

“By the time you got back to the barrier I was pretty sure I was going to have to fight that little shit all over again.”

Emma snorted, “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you curse before.” 

“You don’t know everything, Sheriff.” 

Regina shrugged looking lighter and happier than Emma had ever seen her. The way she seemed to be at the end of every day like she enjoyed dodging giant flaming birds and fist fighting nightmare eating gremlins. 

Emma began to format a response about the mayor of this sleepy town being a trouble seeking adrenalin junky, just to see if she’d deny it. When she still had that manic sort of ‘I won the war’ look still gleaming in her eyes. However, before she could fully process a clever way to tease Regina for being an honest to god psycho, she suddenly realized that, said woman was still holding her hand from their transport.

It was quiet outside, the sun setting and leaving the clearing in a nice orange glow. The only sound for miles the crickets and the river rushing past. Regina lingering closer than she usually chose to stand, unless she was trying to intimidate.

Her eyes glittery and light as she watched Emma waiting for her to continue their banter. Emma’s gaze faltered, her eyes falling to the other woman’s lips without her input.

“I think you might be a psychopath.” Emma teased, not really able to formulate a more clever remark as she watching Regina lick her lips with rapt attention. 

Regina laughed softly, her smile turning a bit fond as she leaned in close enough for Emma’s heart to begin fluttering wildly in her chest. The mayor’s breath tickling her chin as she smiled a bit spiritedly.

“Probably, although I’ve never let the cricket test me.”

Then in a flash, she was stepping away, dropping Emma’s hand as she moved toward the cottage with quick strides.

Emma didn’t move, she had been seconds away from crushing their lips together. Had briefly imagined pulling the queen into their room in the cottage and kissing her till they were both panting and made of nothing but need.

“Sheriff?” Regina beckoned, and Emma turned to look at her. Regina, leaning against the threshold of the cottage with a smile made of nothing but mischief.

Emma’s stomach flipped, and she was positive she was gaping, as Regina leaned against the door waiting for Emma to follow. Something about the lilt to her voice making Emma's whole body go hot.


	8. Chapter 8

Regina pushed the door open with her hand behind her back, watching Emma with a playful smirk, the orange hue of the dying light bouncing off her dark irises and making them glitter like dark pools.

However, before Emma could step back into the queen’s personal space, Regina was stepping backward through the door. 

“Ah.” Baba Yaga’s voice cut through Emma’s desire like a freight train and she froze. Some aspects of that must have shown on her face because Regina was grinning widely at her. 

“Here.” Regina cut in, taking the cross stitch from Emma’s hand and holding it out to the old woman. “I had to fight a Marra wearing my son’s face for that.”

Baba Yaga smiled but didn’t respond, taking the cross-stitch from Regina and taking it to the cabinet where the feather and tea leaves were already being stored.

Emma craned her neck to see over the old woman as she hunched over the table. The glass jars were all pretty small, none were wide enough to stick a whole cross stitch in it.

The Sheriff watched as Baba Yaga slowly turned the flower design over in her hands, plucking the coke bottle glasses that hung around her neck and placing them on the bridge of her nose.

Emma coughed awkwardly, shuffling a bit as she waited for the old woman to finish whatever she was doing.

“If we could hurry this along.” Regina hedged; her arms crossed as she stared into Baba Yaga’s back with a dull expression.

“I’d really like to go back to living in a four-story house with central heating and air.”  
Emma nodded, though the thought of going back to the loft alone left her with a small inkling of dread.

As big a pain as Regina could be she never expected anything of Emma. Never wanted her to be anything specific, and while Henry had initially seen her as a hero he’d really eased off since he’d started spending actual time with her. He seemed unbothered by her transition from curse breaker, to town sheriff who thinks peppermint milkshakes count as a meal. 

Baba Yaga plucked one of the many threads out of the cross-stitch, unraveling it slowly before yanking it free with a swift tug. 

Emma winced; she’d worked hard for that stupid embroider flower art. “You know, that wasn’t exactly easy to get.”

Baba Yaga chuckled, turning her head to regard the two of them with a mirthful gaze over the rim of her thick glasses. 

“I said ' _thread_ of new growth'.” She explained, as though she were talking to two children. “It’s not my fault you two are bad at following explicit directions.”

Emma shrugged, if she was honest, she was glad they hadn’t figured that out. The last thing she’d wanted to do in that little prison was try and decide which thread was the one the old witch had wanted. 

“Well, you got your thread.” Regina replied flippantly. “Can we leave with our son now?”

The next few minutes went by like snapshots. Disjointed and befuddling with an undercurrent of dread. Baba Yaga gave a little shrug and a flippant wave in Regina’s general direction not bothering to hide her exasperation with Regina’s constant lack of patience. 

Emma shrugged, giving the old witch a fond smirk. The truth of the matter was that Regina preferred to fight her battle with immediacy. Waiting was something that could be totally and completely avoided by throwing fire at it until it turned to ash.

Emma shouldn’t like that but the stupid grin on her face gave her away. She absolutely did like it. 

Regina disappeared into the spare room to retrieve Henry with an eye roll and an annoyed scoff that Baba Yaga seemed intent on ignoring. Emma could understand Regina’s impatience; they’d been out running from magic creatures and traipsing through the woods for three days. Emma wouldn’t mind returning to a world with television and running water, and they were both anxious to have Henry back to normal. Not that his baby version wasn’t cute and highly portable, but Emma missed his snark. There was an absence without him, a silence that could be felt at all times knowing that he couldn’t truly be present in his current form. 

A shuffling of paper caught Emma’s attention and she glanced up to the see Baba Yaga slowly pulling a piece of parchment out of one of the apothecary compartments.

“Your boy.” She stated, “Sweet thing that he is, wrote you this. I think he wanted you to have it in the beginning, to help you understand why he came to me but,”

She made a dismissive gesture with her hands, “I think now is as good a time as any.” 

Emma took the folded note in her hands. It had been folded over several times until it was roughly the size of a wallet like a note children might pass during class. 

Henry’s unmistakable handwriting scrawled across the front in ballpoint ink. 

'For my moms,'

Emma flipped the little square over in her hands, regarding it with great scrutiny. She was about to ask why they would need it now if the trials were over. Henry would be fine now; he could just tell them what had happened on his own.

“Sometimes it’s easier to hear things when they aren’t being said.” Baba Yaga responded to Emma’s unspoken question.

The sheriff opened her mouth, a thousand more questions on the tip of her tongue regarding the old woman’s latest riddle when Regina burst angrily forth from the spare room.

A small bundle tucked tightly to her chest. 

Emma’s blood ran cold, Henry was still not back to normal. They had done all of this for absolutely nothing, was Henry’s condition even reversible, or were they going to have to raise him all over again. 

Baba Yaga regarded them with a tired sort of exasperated fondness as Emma rounded on her at the queen's obvious distress. Before everything went dark. Mauve energy encompassing the entire house and everything around them until there was absolutely nothing left.

As the old witch's magic receeded, they realized that they were no longer in the woods. The three of them were instead standing on the side of a back road near the town exit in the dark.

Henry began to fuss and stir in Regina’s arms, obviously distraught by the amount of emotion his parents were giving off. 

Regina immediately switched function, her entire focus shifting to Henry as she rocked him in her arms and soothed the concern from his tiny face.

Across the empty street facing the road into town, Emma’s yellow bug hummed to life. The headlight coming on to brighten the otherwise deserted street. The overhead light, that had stopped working years ago, flickered to life, illuminating the bug's empty cab and more specifically, a car seat already secured in the back seat. 

Emma sighed, the arm closest to Regina automatically going to the small of the queen's back protectively as she ushered them toward the car in silence.

She could feel Regina’s cagey resistance to trust this car, specifically when it had been so obviously placed there by Baba Yaga. 

“It’s late, let’s just get you guys home, and then we’ll work out where to go from here.” Emma reasoned as she opened the passenger side door and pushed the seat all the way forward so that Regina could secure Henry in the little seat.

Emma could feel Regina’s desire to do anything but go along with whatever they were being nudged into but she said nothing as Emma pushed the passenger seat back to a normal position and let Regina slide in.

They didn’t speak at all on their way back into town. The only sounds in the car the soft hum of the road under tires as Emma drove to Mifflin street on autopilot. Something about Regina’s posture, slumped back against the worn leather seat as she gazed into the distance making Emma’s heart ache.

She’d always been good at reading people but the defeated sort of brokenness that was written all over Regina had her ready to pull her father’s sword out of retirement.

“We’ll fix it,” Emma commented as they pulled into the driveway and rolled to a stop.

Regina scoffed, retorting quietly, “That’s not how things go for me.”

Emma’s hand slipped from the gear shift to cover Regina’s. However, before she made contact Regina was taking in a sharp breath. Jerking away from Emma’s soft reassuring touch as she drew herself up and exited the bug. 

“Thank you.” The queen murmured as she pulled Henry’s sleeping form his car seat “I know the last few days weren’t easy, and I have a tendency to make things harder for other people.”

Emma’s brow furrowed as she listened to this defeatist somewhat self-deprecating tone come out of the woman across from her. It sounded like another language on her tonged, yet somehow so utterly at home there. Like this is how she always talked about herself, just not out loud and not in front of Emma.

The sheriff felt a sudden desperate need to hold her and she shuffled out of the driver’s side of the bug awkwardly.

“It was a together thing.” Emma assured before quickly adding, “For Henry.” Like a high school boy adding ‘no homo’ after complimenting his friend’s shoes. 

Regina scoffed ruefully, glancing at their eleven-year-old still trapped in the body of an infant. 

“Still.” Regina paused, her eyes focusing on Henry’s wispy brown hair as she said,  
“I know you prefer to have three to four business days between interacting with me.”

Emma’s face fell, a week ago she had told Henry those exact words. Had laughed as she told him she preferred to have breaks between talking to Regina. 

She winced, regret seeping into her skin at the idea of those words getting back to Regina. Of her dwelling on them in any way. Embarrassment quickly followed as she truly thought about the awkward position that must have left Henry in upon hearing her obvious contempt for his other parent. The woman who’d raised him and cared for him when she had been too lost and too broken to offer him anything resembling a home or family. 

Regina was the literal cornerstone of this weird little family, teaching Emma how to be there for a son that she had raised in her absence.

“Oh.” Emma stuttered out, suddenly wishing she could take back more than a few hundred things she’d said in the past year, “I didn’t-“

Regina shook her head, a little smile pulling at her lips, “It's okay. You irritate me as well.”

Emma snorted, thankful for the first time to be the butt of one of Regina’s little quips. 

She probably shouldn’t enjoy that. 

“You should go home.” Regina commented, “It's late, and was going to be back to trying to fix this first thing tomorrow.”

Emma nodded but continued to linger on the little stoop as Regina opened the door, letting herself and Henry into the mansion. 

“Good night, Sheriff.” Regina lilted, a sort of playfulness in her tone Emma was more than elated to hear after the queen’s little bout of obvious self-hate.

“Good night Madam Mayor,” Emma replied affectionately, stepping backward of the stoop with a little slip, and almost falling on her ass.

Regina snorted her eyes dancing with mischief and playful banter as she murmured, “Idiot,” before shutting the door with a soft click.

Emma was left standing there with a stupid smile and a strange kind of warmth spreading through her chest that she was wholly unwilling to categorize as love of any kind.

* * *

Emma drove home with that stupid smile stuck on her face. She parked the bug and practically skipped all the way to the apartment.

It wasn’t until she let herself into the loft that the dead silence got the better of her.

Obviously, Mary Margret and David were still enjoying their second honeymoon.

Emma flicked on the lights. The stack of games she and Henry had placed on the coffee table was still there. Untouched. 

She hated this. She had spent the last several days with Regina and Henry practically on top of her, the lack of their constant noise was pathetically deafening, as loneliness and reality sank back in.

As much as Emma had made them a family in her mind over the course of this little mishap, she was still an outsider. She was hovering on the edge of being a daughter to parents she hardly knew and a parent to a son she gave up. She wasn’t even sure how to define her relationship with Regina. Technically they were very little to each other. Without Snow’s feud or Henry’s adoption, they held no importance in each other’s lives.

Except Emma was pretty sure she had yet to meet anyone who consumed her thoughts so readily. She had yet to meet anyone beyond her actual living breathing child that held the kind of importance Regina seemed to take up in her mind. 

Without stopping to think on it too hard, Emma retrieved her keys from the bowl she had just thrown them in. She shuffled into her jacket with a sense of urgency as she realized that she very much wanted her family. And unlike the other families she’d tried to force herself in her life, she was more than positive that this one was hers as much as she was theirs. 

Emma pushed opened the large metal door to Mary Margaret’s apartment complex, the damp night air hardly phasing her as she fiddled with her keys.

“Emma.”

The Sheriff froze; her heart leaping into her chest as she turned toward the voice. A voice, she suddenly realized, that for better or worse she would recognize anywhere. 

Regina stood a few feet away. The Benz still running behind her, Henry’s tiny form nestled in the back seat. A little blue blanket tucked tightly around him in his little car seat. The queen’s eyes were wide and he cheeks a bit flushed from the cold Maine air as she looked at Emma with a thousand different emotions playing across her delicate features. 

“Hi,” Emma replied, her throat closing up as she suddenly realized she had no idea what to say. They had barely found even ground and Emma couldn’t bar to be away from them. 

“Were,” Regina coughed, obviously not liking the soft light tone of her voice. “Were you going somewhere?”

Emma paused, a second ago she had been ready to use her emergency key, burst into Regina’s house, and proclaim them her family. If Regina suddenly became her wife in that process so be it.

However, as reality caught up to her she now realized that would have never gone very well. Emma had never been particularly good at lasting relationships, Regina didn’t really even know how to be someone's friend. They were hardly fairytale happily ever after material. 

“I.” Emma shifted on her feet a bit, the idea of kissing Regina like they were the ending of a Disney cartoon making her heart flutter wildly in her chest.

There was so much she meant to say. Sappy things about finding a home within the two of them, and that Emma very well might have accidentally fallen madly in love with her at some point she had yet to pinpoint. 

Instead, she just kept inching closer, trying, and failing to form a full sentence until they were suddenly touching. Regina’s hands going around Emma’s neck with the kind of soft hopeful expression Emma had never expected.

“I’m going to kiss you now.” Emma murmured as her eyes focused on Regina’s supple parted lips with rapt attention. 

Suddenly Regina was surging forward and pressing her lips to Emma’s with a desperate want that had Emma’s hands gripping the mayor’s sides tightly. Of course, Regina had to be in charge of this too, Emma noted even as she smiled against the demanding pressure of Regina pressed fully against her.

One of Regina’s hands at the back of her neck wound its way into her hair and Emma’s hands on her waist began to wander.

A loud smack sounding from behind them finally drove them apart. A sound distantly like knuckles repetitively knocking on glass had them peeling apart with flushed confusion turning to face the Benz just as Henry finished rolling down the backseat window. 

“When I said, ‘make them like each other’ that is not what I meant.” He informed with a sour expression totally unfazed by his transition back into an eleven-year-old boy. 

Regina moved first twisting to face the car and tugging the door opened to throw her arms around him. Tears glittering in her eyes as she squished him to her. 

“I mean, you can like-like each other if you want just please never like each other that much in front of me again.”

Emma scoffed pushing his too-long bangs out of his face and vowing that the would get cut soon no matter what he said, their fight with the Marra still too fresh in her mind.

“God, I forgot how much less cute you are when you talk.” Emma quipped pulling him into a hug of her own the second Regina released him. 

“Moms.” He coughed as Emma squeezed him tightly, she’d missed his smart mouth. It was way harder to hug a baby.

“I was here the whole time.” He whinged, entirely unimpressed by their elation at having him back to normal.

“Oh.” Emma commented pulling him back by his shoulders so she could look him in the eyes, “Speaking of.” 

She paused glancing back at Regina with a questioning look and Regina nodded, reading her mind as if they had been doing this for years.

“You’re grounded.” Regina finished, and Emma nodded before quickly adding, “For like, well, forever.”

Regina hummed in agreement and Emma hugged their son to her again, pointedly ignoring his loud grumbles.

“But we're happy you’re back.” She amended, a wide smile on her face as she felt Regina lean over her to kiss Henry's cheek. 

"Immensly." 


End file.
